As The Masks Crack
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: Before there was Team 7... there was Team Ro. Nothing more than an overrated asylum prep program. Vignettes of Team Ro during Kakashi's ANBU days. Kakashi-centric. T for BLOOD and DARK THEMES.
1. Uchiha In The ANBU

**Uchiha In The ANBU**

 **Date Posted: 11/16/15**

 **Word Count: 2387**

 **Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO NOR ANY OF IT'S CANON CHARACTERS.**

* * *

Itachi Uchiha rounded on his opponent, three gleaming kunai materializing in his hand as he raised it. He flung them with a deadly flick of his delicate wrist, and the ANBU operative made a hasty leap out of their path, backwards and to Itachi's left. The three blades thumped harmlessly into the soft earth, amidst the dancing shadows cast by the stark afternoon sun through the trees. Then, in the larger ninja darted, close and personal, to deliver several swift blows with his bare hands, all of which Itachi dodged with seeming effortlessness. He was young, but he was no novice - everyone, even his own clan, considered him the greatest of his time. Bloody Sharingan blazing from behind his mask, Itachi caught the ANBU by the wrist and jerked him down to his level, nose to nose.

Within seconds, the ANBU dissolved into terrified shivering, sweat beading on his neck. Only then did Itachi release him, and step back. He blinked. The ANBU came back to awareness with a subtle jerk, breath short and rapid.

"You gave a good effort," said the prodigy Uchiha, civil as he always was. "That was a good spar."

"Itachi wins again," Kakashi muttered to Tenzo.

Tenzo nodded. "Second one. He made Badger look like an Academy student, and now he's nearly reduced Panther to tears."

Never had he seen the ninjutsu master so out of sorts before. In the short years that Tenzo had been a member of this team under Kakashi's tutelage, he thought he'd grown to know it's many strengths and weaknesses quite well. But as the stripling Uchiha took on each member of Team Ro one-on-one, Tenzo found himself watching those strengths being turned to more weaknesses before his very eyes. Itachi did a miraculous job at taking someone's skill and using it effectively against them.

Kakashi nodded. "After that ridiculous display earlier, I can't say they didn't need it."

Tenzo couldn't disagree with that, but he also couldn't forget how Itachi hadn't flinched a muscle as shuriken and kunai, which could end his young life in a mere second should any hit their mark, flew inches past his head as he approached his new team on the green of the training grounds for the first time.

The team captain brandished and threw his own kunai, into the ground at the feet of the green-masked member among them. "Frog, you have a go."

"My pleasure, Kakashi-taichou." He cracked his knuckles, taking his sweet time doing it. "I've been waiting my turn."

"Then by all means, have at it."

As he leapt into the fray with great vigor, Tenzo let loose a heavy sigh. He stood at Kakashi's side, which is where he could usually be found; the two had a bond, one Tenzo couldn't rightly explain. It wasn't as if anything special had passed between them - unless one counted trying to kill one another. But of all the members of the elite ANBU team, Kakashi was the one Tenzo knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he could trust. Trust to have his back, and perhaps even to see him as the person he wanted to be.

Tenzo. Not some half-baked Shodai wannabe.

"What do you think of him?" Tenzo asked quietly, continuing their muttered conversation while absently watching as the spar progressed. "Itachi, I mean."

"Hm…" Kakashi took a moment, hands in his pockets, to lean back and stare at the sky in thought. Clouds rolled by overhead like driftwood in a body of crisp, endless blue. "It's hard to say anything now… He has potential."

"As what, though?"

"Anything, really. That's the trouble with guessing before we know anything."

"A decent ANBU?"

"Certainly."

Tenzo watched as the Uchiha in question swiped Frog's feet out from under him and drove his small elbow into the older boy's stomach, knocking the breath from him from both sides as he slammed into the ground below.

"…A double agent?"

Kakashi hesitated. "…That's a possibility, I suppose."

"He is an Uchiha first and foremost."

"We don't know that."

Tenzo glanced toward his captain. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that for all intents and purposes, it appears that his loyalties are on the straight and narrow - solely with the Leaf. I'm not saying he couldn't be something else, but I'm not going to start developing conspiracy theories until there's a little more information to go on."

He processed this a moment - Kakashi-senpai was right, after all, like he always tended to be - and then smirked behind his mask. "You mean you'll be developing conspiracy theories later on?"

"Ha ha. Funny."

Tenzo couldn't resist a genuine chuckle of his own. That is until Frog shouted profanity to the clouds and stumbled from the sparring ring.

"All right, all right," he growled, rubbing his elbow. Tenzo had missed what happened. "I get it. I won't be underestimating you again…"

"Otter, you're turn," said Kakashi.

The spiky-haired blond nodded and didn't hesitate to jump at Itachi, who didn't look like he'd even broken a sweat yet. With duel clicks, Otter whipped out the hidden blades on his wrists and began swiping furiously at the small, raven-haired boy. Itachi danced and dodged with the skill of an experienced acrobat.

"He's young…" Kakashi said, with a strange tone in his voice. Like a kind of melancholy fondness. "Younger than I was when I joined the ANBU."

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen. Though…" The red and white wolf mask trained on Tenzo. "I suppose that's nothing compared to being raised in the Foundation."

Tenzo looked away from the somber face to watch Itachi come well on his way to taking down Otter, despite the latter employing his excellent taijutsu and Water style ninjutsu.

"No… Growing up as an automaton kinda makes you used to the idea of children being used as spies."

"Automaton?"

"Don't tell Lord Danzo I said that."

That got a rare chuckle from the white-haired Hatake, and he finally turned away, relieving Tenzo of the weight of his heavy gaze. Despite wearing a mask, there was something that happened when Kakashi of the Sharingan looked at you. It was as if a deep sense of grief shot straight from his eyes to the soul of the person unfortunate enough to look him in the eye. The underlying pain was near palpable. It was something Tenzo doubted Kakashi even knew he was doing, but it was unsettling nonetheless.

So to hear him laugh was a valuable thing, few and far between.

"You're not far off, honestly. To think he almost had me under his thumb a few years back… Then you showed up and reminded me that orders were one thing, but bonds were another." Tenzo could almost hear Kakashi's smile then. "I'm still grateful."

"Uh… you're welcome?"

"Sorry, that was kind of awkward, wasn't it?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"I concede!"

Both men glanced up to see Otter taking several steps back with his hands up, knives retracted. Itachi stood still, yet ready with kunai in hand in case the surrender turned out to be false.

"I concede," the ANBU said, and then put a hand on his hip. "Nice job, kid. I don't think I've ever crossed someone of your skill level before, let alone at your age."

And somehow, despite every member wearing their mask, Tenzo could tell that Otter earned himself some dirty looks for that quip. He held up his hands in concession to the negative responses, and simply retreated from the ring.

"Cat, I think it's your turn," said Kakashi, a smirk in his voice.

Tenzo took a moment to process that the captain was speaking to him. He was so used to the older teen calling him by name instead.

"Me?" He glanced over at Itachi, and tried not to seem too reluctant. "B-But Lizard-"

"I know." Oh, Kakashi-senpai was definitely smirking under that porcelain shield. "But it's you're turn now."

"Actually…"

The gentle voice startled everyone, and all turned to its source - the Uchiha at the center of the group.

Itachi stood straight, directly facing the captain. "If I may, taichou. I request to spar with you."

A hushed 'ooh' went through the members of Team Ro, but Kakashi showed no reaction. Tenzo watched him closely, and had to wonder what was crossing his mind at that very moment. Was he surprised, or had he perhaps seen that coming? Kakashi-senpai often was more insightful than he let on… Would he accept the challenge, or stick to his original plan?

"Me, huh… All right." Kakashi took a few easy steps forward, not even bothering to pull his hands from his pockets. "Don't expect me to go easy on you, though."

"I would prefer that you didn't." Itachi sheathed his kunai, brandishing no more weapons, and simply stood there with his hands at his sides.

Kakashi did the same, and for the longest moment, the two Sharingan wielders faced off in silence. Tenzo took a subconcious step back - who knew how big this spar would get?

The silence had only just grown eerie when Kakashi gave a low chuckle.

"Nicely done, using genjutsu right off the bat. But you'll have to be a bit more convincing next time." With that, the captain whipped out a kunai and dashed in.

Itachi withdrew his own weapons, a pair of kunai in each hand. With flicks of his wrists, he threw two at Kakashi, one after the other. Kakashi, likely using his Sharingan already due to his opponent, easily dodged them and didn't even break pace.

Kunai clashed, showering sparks, fighting for a mere second before they pulled back and then clashed again. And again and again. Clang, clang, clang. Back and forth they went, one striking, the other deflecting in a flurry of vicious swipes. They moved with elegant, rhythmic fluidity, making battle look more like a dance, a dance of two masters in their element.

Suddenly, as Tenzo paid closer attention, Itachi's size didn't matter. He more than made up for it in sheer skill. His raven ponytail weaved like a silk ribbon in his wake, he spun and twisted and leapt with the grace of a deer, the agility of a wildcat, and the accuracy of a viper.

And Kakashi-senpai was no pushover. His attacks were more solid, firm and confident, but not arrogant. He was quicker to offense and balanced with defense, and never took his eyes off his opponent. He moved like his chakra type - quick and powerful bursts of energy originating at his core and extending outward like whips.

In all appearances, they could have been on equal footing as opponents.

The spar lasted much longer than all the previous ones, only further demonstrating the ridiculous gap in skill level between the two in the ring and those outside. This ANBU team was made up of the best in the Leaf, and yet Kakashi Hatake and Itachi Uchiha seemed to be on a level of their own.

Finally, Kakashi used a Water Style jutsu followed by the Chidori to incapacitate the young prodigy. It was a simple solution to end things quickly, and Tenzo honestly thought Itachi should have seen it coming.

But maybe he had, and had done nothing about it.

Whatever the case, the spar's end saw Itachi lying on his back on the now-wet ground, chest heaving, hair and clothes soaked and steaming from the short burst of electricity he'd just absorbed. Kakashi sheathed his kunai and stuffed his hands back into his pockets again. He approached the boy, footsteps squelching in the flooded grass as the smell of soaked earth and steam enveloped them all.

"You're better than I expected." Tenzo recognized the smile in Kakashi's voice. The latter offered the Uchiha a hand up. "Well done."

Itachi took it gratefully, still a little out of breath, and stood shakily to his feet.

"I suppose that might've been a bit much…" Kakashi started, a hint of nervousness creeping into his words.

Itachi shook his head. "I should have seen it coming. It was a simple attack that could have been avoided. I was expecting something complex from you, but you reminded me not to underestimate the small things. Thank you, taichou."

"Something to remember for next time." Kakashi patted the boy on the back. "Give me a minute and then we'll head back to the village to get you cleaned up and dried off."

Then he turned to the rest of the team, who picked their jaws off the ground in an attempt to look professional again.

"You know the ANBU's standards. You insisted on confirming that our new addition met them. I would say he's surpassed them, wouldn't you?"

Silence met him, but Tenzo could sense the spike of guilt from his comrades. Kakashi was right on the money, and none of the members of Team Ro would be underestimating or discriminating against Itachi Uchiha again any time soon.

Tenzo himself had a new respect for the young prodigy, and foresaw him fitting into their team dynamic well.

"We are Team Ro," Kakashi continued, and glanced at Itachi. "All of us. Age, gender, background, none of it matters. We are the Leaf's main line of defense, and we all answer directly the Hokage. Anyone who wants to add their own opinion to this philosophy can feel free to speak with me personally. Otherwise…"

Something invisible crackled through the air, and a chill raced up Tenzo's spine. He swore he saw Kakashi's Sharingan glare from the shadows behind his mask.

"Have your teammate's back. At all times."

Every member bowed in response. "Yes, sir!"

Then the chill was gone. Kakashi slouched, and was the laid-back Hatake Tenzo and the rest of the team knew him as.

"Good," he said. "Now, I think we could all use some showers - you all smell horrible."

Itachi glanced up at the captain. "You stink too, taichou."

Kakashi just shoved his head over, and turned on his heel to lead the way back into the village. The others laughed, and followed behind him.

Tenzo fell into step beside Itachi, and even though the boy couldn't see it through his mask, he offered the Uchiha a smile.

"Welcome to Team Ro, Itachi."

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 **A/N: So, this is what I'm working on as a supplement for NaNo, since my own original novel is giving me trouble. So hopefully, updates will be pretty regular. This is also my first Naruto: Shippuden fanfic, so... we'll see how this goes. ALSO NOTE, you can expect spoilers for Shippuden episodes from The Kakashi Chronicles, to the whole Tenzo/Kakashi/Itachi in the ANBU arc. Read at your own risk.**

 **You can find the YOUTUBE PLAYLIST for this fic by searching me on YouTube (Penelope Jadewing) and going to my Playlists tab. It's titled "Fanfiction - As The Masks Crack".**

 **Also expect OCs. They're gonna happen. I'll try to make 'em good. :P Reviews are love! (Suggestions/prompts are welcome as well.)**

 **God bless!**

 **~Penelope**


	2. Youngest Member

**Youngest Member**

 **Date Posted: 11/16/15**

 **Word Count: 1574**

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Kakashi Hatake was warring with his own mind. Not to say that this was a rare occurrence, but the subject of his mental disagreement wasn't the usual. Usually, he dwelt on darker things; things like guilt and shame and insufficiency. His mind was a place of hungry self-destructive shadows, after all. But no, tonight, as he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts circled around the newest ANBU recruit like buzzards.

Itachi Uchiha. Child prodigy. Sharingan. Deadly talent as a shinobi. It all sounded so awfully familiar.

He was likely the best in his time, if not in the history of the Leaf. Kakashi couldn't recall off the top of his head the last time he heard of one single ninja holding so many high hopes, aside from perhaps the name Shisui Uchiha - and he was in Itachi's peer group, and a fellow member of the ANBU.

Itachi, therefore, was a valuable asset to the village and the Land of Fire. With a generation of Uchihas such as his on the rise, Konoha would be well on its way to peace within its borders, and Itachi would be instrumental in its success.

Then why, Kakashi asked himself, did it feel so calloused to think of it this way? Why did he mentally cringe at calling Itachi Uchiha an asset?

He was. It was not wrong, was not an incorrect statement. But it felt wrong, so wrong that it kept Kakashi up for hours, ever since the day that little boy stepped into Team Ro's locker room, shockingly aware of the life that he had signed himself over to.

The previous day was no exception. In which Kakashi accompanied Itachi on his very first ANBU mission.

From Itachi's simple response to Kakashi's putting the mission in perspective - saying that he didn't mind the food pills - to the ruthless way the boy had dispatched each and every enemy while Kakashi found himself busy dealing with Gai and his expected objections to their mission.

And Gai… he hadn't the slightest clue. But he could never hide what he was feeling. Gai was horrified with what he'd witness that day; Kakashi had seen it etched across his face. And he couldn't blame him. Gai had no darkness in his heart. No shadowed side of his mind that he had to try desperately to keep hidden from the rest of the world.

Meanwhile, Itachi had taken the initiative, despite being 11 years old, and carried out the brutal mission without a second's hesitation. Kakashi still vividly recalled the scarlet blood that hung off the boy's hand, spattered up his arm and across his flak jacket. It was something that made the everyday ninja proud. Itachi's parents, the rest of Team Ro, the Sandaime Hokage himself acknowledged Itachi's worth as an obedient shinobi. Even Kakashi had felt his respect for the boy leap up several notches.

But he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but a sense of guilt. Of mourning. Mourning for whatever sort of child Itachi had once been, and would soon no longer be. Guilt for being a part of dragging him into this ruthless underworld.

In the ideal world, no child would have to be a part of such darkness as the ANBU.

But this world was far from ideal. Kakashi had so much evidence of this fact, that it was almost comical in a dark, twisted sort of way.

The Leaf needed Itachi. Needed him so desperately that they were willing to sacrifice his childish innocence and humanity for the sake of their security.

Sunlight glared through Kakashi's bedroom window, straight into his face. His Sharingan throbbed, and he squinted both eyes shut while he raised a hand to shield himself from the offensive light.

When had the sun come up?

He recalled lying down to sleep, but sleep hadn't come, and he'd had no choice but to lie there and dwell on these tumultuous thoughts until it did. Had he really mused straight through the night, all those hours, and not even noticed?

With a deep-rooted sigh, the Copy Nin sat up and rubbed his hands over his weary face, careful of his mask. Felt every stress line that aged him beyond his years. Now that he thought about it, his eyes felt dry, his eyelids heavy, but no more than usual. His sleeping pattern was erratic at best as it was; what was one more fitful night?

 _Ibiki will ask again, no doubt._

That was right, wasn't it? Today was Eval Day again.

"'Spose I better get a move on, then…" he said to nobody. The silence of his apartment was the only reply he got.

Dredging up the motivation, he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and set his feet on the cold hardwood floor. The chill made him shiver, but he stood anyway. From his closet, he gathered his casual gear, and shuffled into his bathroom for a quick shower.

Ten minutes later saw him wandering the streets of the Leaf village in the virgin light of dawn, in no particular hurry to get to his destination. Between having another half hour before he was expected at the Interrogation Unit Headquarters, and feeling no great desire to see the sadistic Morino again, Kakashi let his feet drag and took the scenic route.

With his mind still running in circles over his previous subject, he moseyed along, oblivious to the world around him, until the laughter of children broke through the serene morning peacefulness. Like a rock shattering a pane of glass.

Kakashi raised his head and found himself passing by the Ninja Academy. A brown-haired teenager with a scar across the bridge of his nose - an Umino, Kakashi thought he was - ushered child after rambunctious child into the building and seemed to keep track of them with the clipboard he held.

And lo and behold, there appeared the subject of Kakashi's nightly musings, ankles dogged by a smaller boy with spiky black hair, boasting the Uchiha crest on the back of his high-collared shirt.

Itachi Uchiha's own casual wear made him look older than he was. Kakashi recalled how small the boy seemed when clad in his ANBU uniform.

"Nii-san," the younger boy was saying to Itachi, with a great beaming grin on his face, "will you be home after school _today_?"

"I couldn't say," said Itachi, with a fond smile of his own. "I don't think I'll have a mission today, but you never know when something will come up unexpectedly."

The younger boy seemed to pout. "That's what you always say…"

"We'll see, Sasuke. I'll tell you what: maybe, if I am home when you get back, I'll have all my work done. Then maybe I'll help you with your homework. And then, _maybe_ , we'll get to some shuriken practice."

The boy, Sasuke, wasn't very much pleased with this proffered deal. He sulked all the more. "That's a lot of maybes."

Itachi laughed, a sound Kakashi had yet to hear. It made him stop in his tracks.

Such a youthful sound…

"Sorry, Sasuke, but I'm afraid that's how it has to be." Itachi then beckoned the younger boy closer. Sasuke obliged with a trudge, only to be poked between the eyes by his older brother. Sasuke harumphed in displeasure, while Itachi continued speaking.

"If it doesn't work out, we'll have to do it next time."

"When 'next time'!?" Sasuke whined. The school bell interrupted his objection, and Itachi gave him a light push toward the main door.

"Hurry, Sasuke! You'll be late!"

Despite heaving a begrudging sigh, the boy gripped his satchel strap and bounded off, leaving Itachi behind. The scarred teen - ah, Iruka! That was his name - met him at the door like a mother hen, shooing him inside. But before Sasuke's feet crossed the threshold, he broke from Iruka's fussing to turn and wave at his brother. His bright, untainted grin was back in place.

"Have your work done! I'll see you after school, nii-san!" With that, the young Uchiha scampered into the building, with Iruka close behind.

Itachi stood there for several long, silent seconds. Kakashi found himself transfixed by the ghosts of what had just transpired, running over the scene in his mind.

Such a domestic moment. Simple and pure, two brothers being brothers. The damper came with the knowledge that Itachi was anything but a normal big brother.

He was ANBU.

As such, it shouldn't have surprised Kakashi when Itachi turned to look right at him. There had been no wandering of his gaze; those piercingly dark eyes had trained right on him where he stood rooted.

He'd known Kakashi was there.

Itachi was certainly good enough for that to be so, and Kakashi was fully aware of that, but he couldn't help stiffening under the boy's intense stare.

Another moment of quiet passed between them. Then, without a word, Team Ro's youngest member bowed his head, and then whisked off to the rooftops, dashing away in the direction of the ANBU barracks.

The air felt weighty with some unspoken message that Kakashi could only wish he had the skill to interpret. And he still had yet to solve his own nagging mental puzzle.

If Itachi Uchiha was such a rare talent and valuable comrade, why did it feel like a shame that he was counted equal among the likes of Kakashi Hatake?


	3. Your Friendly Neighborhood Psychoanalyst

**Your Friendly Neighborhood Psychoanalyst**

 **Date Posted: 11/16/15**

 **Word Count: 1693**

* * *

"Are you getting enough sleep?"

No matter how many times this question was asked, the answer always remained the same. It wasn't that Ibiki Morino didn't know the answer. The answer was obvious, and written across every deepening shadow under the Hatake's empty eye. But still he asked, perhaps with a vain hope that maybe for once, the silver-haired ANBU prodigy would be straightforward. Honest.

He trusted that Kakashi knew exactly what he meant, despite the vague wording.

The dead-eyed man gave a lethargic nod. That action alone took more effort on his part than it should. "I am."

Ibiki stared at him long and hard, eyes narrow. He hated when his clients lied to him. Mostly, due to the fact that he could see straight through it and therefore, took the lie as an insult to his intelligence. That never seemed to stop this particular case, no matter how many glares he got for it.

And thanks to protocol, there was not much Ibiki could do about it either. These evaluation sessions were meant to study the psychological states of those in the ANBU, Team Ro specifically since the latter dealt directly with the Hokage and as such, was a greater security risk.

Nobody wanted a mentally unstable operative holding the fate of the Leaf's leader in their hands.

Kakashi himself danced on the line between functional and unfit for service, in Ibiki's opinion, but he always gave the right answers. He was coherent and grounded; no signs of schizophrenia, heightened anxiety, depression, or suicidal tendencies. None, at least, that were obvious.

The Elders and the Hokage praised him as a testament to his generation. A true shinobi, strong to the core and ready to do anything, even the dirtiest of assignments, to protect his village.

They didn't see him right after such an assignment, when he looked like he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his empty apartment and never come out again.

And it was that antisocial streak that was beginning to concern Ibiki more than anything else. _Not depressed, my foot._

More concerning was what exactly a depressed shinobi could do when he was by himself. Leaving such a man to his own inner demons was a disaster waiting to happen. Another Hatake that he knew of came to mind.

From what Ibiki had read in the records, Kakashi was well on his way down the very same self-destructive path that his father, Sakumo, had wandered over.

Not that he could prove it. Yet.

He tapped his fingers on his desk top, staring at the eval page on the clipboard in his lap. Most of the chicken scratches portrayed a mix of his current thoughts and the usual information he tended to put down concerning Kakashi Hatake, captain of Team Ro. Every evaluation produced the same information, but always a hint darker. A hint more hopeless. A hint more unnerving.

That was how it was with Kakashi. A slow descent into madness.

But the client himself seemed bound and determined to pretend everything was fine.

So for today, rather than beat around the same bush they always did and get nowhere, Ibiki chose a different approach.

"How's the new recruit doing?" Ibiki sat straight in his chair and swiveled so he could prop his elbows on his desk, setting the clipboard in front of him. "You took him on his first mission yesterday."

Kakashi blinked. This, at last, was more of a reaction than Ibiki usually got. A subtle shift in expression told him most of what he needed to know - the smallest of furrows between his eyes, a twitch downward of his eyebrow, and a subtle hardening. Kakashi was frustrated at something, and that something was directly related to the question he'd just been posed.

"The mission went well," the Hatake finally said, rather simply. He managed to school his face back into its apathetic mask, and Ibiki managed not to bang his forehead against something hard. _Stubborn fool…_ "But I'm sure you read the report."

"That's not what I asked, Hatake-san."

The ANBU captain took a moment to ponder, visible eye searching empty air for answers.

"He's a skilled shinobi," he finally said, and Ibiki waited for an answer that was a little more useful. "He's calculating, level-headed, and he's willing to do anything asked of him. He's a good addition to the team."

Again, Ibiki found his question had been effectively dodged. He hadn't asked about Itachi Uchiha's talent. But unfortunately, asking again wouldn't get him anywhere. Not like this.

"He gets along with the other operatives?" Ibiki wrote ' _still evasive_ ' on one of the few empty lines in the Notes section of his page.

Again, Kakashi took a moment to think before answering.

"It's hard to say. He hasn't been around that long."

"I see…" Ibiki tapped his pen on the board, and then figured there was no harm in digging deeper. "What do you think about such a young boy joining the ANBU rather than pursuing jounin?"

"There are plenty of chunin in the ANBU," Kakashi replied without hesitation.

"Not what I meant."

"Perhaps you should say what you mean, then."

Ibiki frowned. He sensed an undertone of hostility, despite the laid back delivery of the jibe. Nothing in the Hatake's face gave anything away, besides the fact that for once, he was looking Ibiki in the eye.

This was what separated predators from prey. Prey avoided eye contact. Predators initiated it.

Too bad Ibiki had already beat the Hatake to the punch - at the beginning of every evaluation.

He welcomed the hidden glare behind that dull grey eye. It was a reaction, and a reaction spoke volumes.

"So: what _do_ you think about it?" he prompted.

Kakashi sighed and took his sweet time before answering, staring off at nothing while he did. Ibiki found himself grinding his teeth, and jotted down ' _antagonistic tendencies toward certain positions of authority, me in particular_ '.

Finally, Kakashi shrugged. "I don't know."

Ibiki gripped the pen and wished he could just snap it between his fingers. But of course, now was not the time for demonstrations of frustration. That could wait until he was home and alone. He did, however, manage to keep his expression in a cold mask of non-enthusiasm. Kakashi's attitude certainly did nothing to impress him.

"…You know why this is my job, don't you, Hatake-san?"

"I do."

"And you know that I'm able to get a full map of your psych via Mind Transfer if and when I should choose to do so, should you refuse to cooperate?"

"I am aware."

And yet, the ANBU op still made no effort to meet him in the middle. He remained secluded in his inner sanctum, some deep corner of his mind, and talked with Ibiki as if speaking through a window. Muffled and distant.

Ibiki scribbled. ' _Noncommittal as ever_.'

He gave Kakashi chance after chance. One of these days, he'd have to follow through on this threat. He needed a clearer view of this man's mental plane - if he couldn't get it, he was taking a risk with more lives than one. And that risk grew every time Kakashi returned from a mission a little bit darker, a little bit more bloodstained.

"Our time's up."

Ibiki glanced up at this, still not giving Kakashi any great reaction. He could give back as much reticence as the other dished out. He took more time than necessary to finish up his thoughts on paper and lazily turn to look at the clock on the wall.

They had one minute to go.

"Oh, no, we still have 57 seconds." Ibiki folded his hands in front of him, pinching his pen between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers. "How's the socializing going?"

A very vague, very reluctant 'meh' was all he got in response.

Ibiki allowed himself a smirk. "I see. Well, your assignment for this month is as follows: go on at least three outings, with at least one other person. This does not include missions or anything work related. This also does not include the members of your team while on duty. This can, however, include a teammate at a time _both of you_ are off duty. I suggest you go on one outing per weekend. If you happen to take a mission that requires longer than one week to complete, this does _not_ nullify any part of this assignment. All three outings must be completed, and I want a detailed report at next month's eval. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." He didn't sound enthusiastic - when did he? - but if there was one thing Kakashi Hatake understood, it was orders.

Ibiki nodded. "Now you're dismissed."

With how much trouble he'd given him this time, Ibiki would've expected Kakashi to practically jump out of the chair and hightail it out like his sanity depended on it. But the Copy Nin just stood with as much gusto as a recovering concussion victim, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and shuffled from the room.

Ibiki watched him go without a word, and once the door was shut, released the weary sigh that had been building in the back of his throat for the last ten minutes. He dropped his hands to the desktop, and skimmed over all the little notes he'd put down during this month's eval.

 _'…evasive.'_

 _'Antagonistic tendencies…'_

 _'Noncommittal…'_

And then his final set of scratches: _'His objections to regular psych evals increase with every session. He's running mentally from something. What? Not sure yet. Perhaps the Uchiha?'_

He would have to compare notes with that Umino kid in the next couple days. He was interning in this department, and Ibiki had given him Itachi Uchiha as his second client. Both were new additions in their respective fields, so it was likely to produce something substantial. More so than Ibiki's sessions with Kakashi of late, for sure.

 _Little brat…_ Kakashi Hatake had the strange ability to make Ibiki feel like a senior, as opposed to a peer.

Because after all, the former was only one year younger than the latter.


	4. Tiny Feet, Combat Boots

**Tiny Feet, Combat Boots**

 **Date Posted: 11/16/15**

 **Word Count: 1458**

* * *

Iruka Umino's only hope was that this client would be much more agreeable than the last one.

Itachi Uchiha hailed from the very same ANBU team, but he was new and he was young and, of course, an Uchiha. Which Iruka wasn't sure whether or not to be happy about. As a member of such an elite clan, it was likely the boy would have a better grasp of propriety than the Lizard of Team Ro, a certain Hokamaru Hyuga (which was actually quite ironic).

Or, it could just mean that Itachi would be a snobbish, self-absorbed prick. Or worse, some kind of sociopath…

The fact of the matter was that there were too many ways this introductory session could go, and Iruka was beginning to wonder why he'd decided to take a year interning as a psych examiner at all.

Too many variables, too much confrontation, and worst of all, dealing with all the darkness these ANBU operatives brought with them. They always had an ominous sense of foreboding hovering around them like a cloud, and with those masks, you could never tell whether or not they were staring at you.

And their unpredictable mental state…

Yes, he was very much beginning to regret this now.

The clock struck two o' clock. On the second chime, somebody knocked on the office door.

His eyebrows rose. Could that be Itachi? So prompt! That was, of course, if it was him. The fifteen-year-old chunin stood from his comfortable desk chair and scuttled over to the door, taking the cold knob in his grip and turning. After but a moments hesitation, he swung it open.

A young boy stood on the other side. Very young. The file had said the Uchiha ANBU was eleven, and so Iruka shouldn't have been surprised, but he couldn't help it. The boy looked so small in a uniform fashioned for much larger, greater shinobi.

Coal-black eyes, soft and gentle and inquisitive as a cat's, stared up at him from under neatly parted ebony bangs. The rest of his long hair was tied back in a thick ponytail, and rather than the skin-tight, sleeveless underarmor that most ANBU wore, this child donned the Uchiha's traditional high-collared, short sleeved shirt. Were he not wearing his grey flak jacket, Iruka would likely have seen an Uchiha crest at the center of the back.

 _Wait… this is the boy I saw with Sasuke outside the Academy this morning. That's right, Sasuke's older brother!_

"Hello," said the boy, civilly enough. "Uh… Iruka-san?"

"Oh, yes, that's me. Hello! Uh, please, come in." Iruka opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow the boy entrance. "You're Itachi Uchiha, right?"

"That's right." Itachi stepped into the meager work space, and looked around. His eyes, despite their youth, seemed to hold a heightened awareness for his surroundings, and a mature calculating glint as well. If Iruka didn't know his age and was watching from a distance, he might mistake him for an older teen, perhaps older than Iruka himself.

Such an odd feeling, the sense that somebody acts and feels older than oneself despite one's obvious seniority.

"It smells like cloves in here…" Itachi noted in the midst of his observation. It was not an expression of distaste, or of delight. Only a simple statement.

Iruka gave paused, and took a moment to sniff for himself. He hadn't been in this office long, but he also adjusted to changes in setting rather quickly. He certainly hadn't noticed any cloves.

Leaving that puzzle to simmer, Iruka drew himself straighter and gestured to his work station, more speficially, the overstuffed clients' chairs sitting opposite his desk.

"Have a seat," Iruka offered, trying to remain accommodating and not let his previous apprehension show through. Thus far, Itachi didn't seem terribly intimidating. Perhaps it was his height…

Itachi did as he was told and sat down with a certain amount of noble grace. The chair, however, had different ideas, and seemed to swallow the boy up. He fidgeted a little in an attempt to find a comfortable spot. A blush flashed over his face when it seemed his efforts were in vain.

Iruka offered him a sympathetic look. "Sorry about those; I don't care for them either…"

The young Uchiha managed to find a decent position and stilled there, waiting a moment or two of silence before raising his eyes to Iruka again. The balance of maturity and innocence in those eyes yet again caught the chunin off guard.

Then Iruka recalled that it was his job to start the session off.

"Oh, uh… Well, I guess… first things first?" He sat back down at his own chair behind his desk, and fished about the stacks of paperwork for his clipboard and analysis documents. _Now, I set them around here somewhere… Aha! There._ He set it squarely in front of him and dragged a pen close.

Itachi nodded, and settled in to listen. He seemed to have decent manners - that was a good sign.

Iruka relocated the boy's file and thumbed through it yet again, refreshing himself to details. "So I see your first ANBU mission was yesterday… Congrats. How did that go?"

"It went well," said Itachi, young voice even and professional. "There were complications later during the execution, but we expected it and initiated a counterattack before anyone could get hurt."

Iruka frowned a little. The child's developed vocabulary and amicable disposition was all well and good, but that wasn't exactly the answer he'd wanted. He'd hoped for something a bit more insightful about the boy's state of mind. Maybe it was his wording… He needed to be specific.

"Well, that's good… but what about you? How did you feel about it?"

Itachi blinked at him, genuine confusion on his dark Uchiha features. "About… what?"

"Um… for starters, how about your team captain? He accompanied you on the mission, right? What do you think of him? Are you getting along?"

Itachi pondered this a moment before answering with a thoughtful glance upward. "Kakashi-taichou is an interesting person… He's a good leader, from what I've observed so far. I think he cares about the team, and he does a good job keeping things organized and professional."

Iruka made a note on his page. _'High respect for authority! Surpassing initial expectations.'_ "Good. How about you? How do you feel about him personally?"

Again, the Uchiha took a moment to come up with an answer. Iruka used that time to write another small note.

 _'Introspective. Thinks before speaking.'_

"He's somebody I can willingly follow," the child said at length. The air of the comment made Iruka take pause and marvel, pen frozen above the paper's surface.

This eleven-year-old spoke like an adult. It was mind-boggling. He must have had such a sense of honor, respect, and a deep intuition of thing unspoken, to wield a phrase like that.

He couldn't help but smile. "Very good." A few more scribbles of notes. "How about the mission itself? Did you find it difficult or more strenuous than you expected? How did it impact you?"

"The mission was quite easy. Easier than I thought it would be, actually."

Now, this answer brought a shadow of disturbance to the forefront of Iruka's mind. He paused, and glanced up at the boy, who still looked as young and unperturbed as when he walked in.

But Iruka had read up on the mission. As a simple chunin, he wasn't allowed any specifics, but he knew enough. People had died, and Itachi along with Kakashi Hatake were the harbingers. Had Itachi even experienced that kind of intense combat before?

"I see…" Iruka played with his pen absently. "Pardon me for being blunt, but… the enemy shinobi. How many of them did you kill?"

Finally, Itachi's eyes cast downward, and he hesitated in answering. "Well… three. Kakashi-taichou took out two of them… until Gai-taichou distracted him. Then I dispatched those that the latter left alive."

"How many?"

"…Four."

Iruka's heart sank. That made Itachi's hit count a total of seven on his first mission. And knowing ANBU, that meant up close and personal killings.

Yet he was so casual… or was he?

"What was going through your mind?" Iruka asked, without really meaning to. Despite it being part of his current job, he found he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

Itachi took even longer to answer that. When he finally did, he looked Iruka in the eye and spoke with such conviction that Iruka found his tongue once again coated lead, momentarily dumbstruck.

"I don't like hurting people… but if it's for the safety of my village, I'll do anything necessary."

* * *

 **A/N: I feel like I'm not writing folks like Ibiki and Iruka very well... But. What can you do. I just have to take it one chapter at a time and get better as I go.**


	5. Phaseshifting

**Phaseshifting**

 **Date Posted: 11/22/15**

 **Word Count: 3014**

* * *

As far as ANBU operatives went, ex-Root member Tenzo was by far one of the most agreeable. Which was a rather ironic notion, when one thought about it. He'd come from the coldest ground in the Land of Fire, caught up in political ranglings and double-crossings. Now, he had lingering issues with social deprivation and trust. But compared to many others, he would dare say the last wood-style user was downright tame. And Mawashi Dokuraku honestly couldn't be more grateful.

After all, he'd been present after sessions in which Kakashi Hatake drove Konoha T&I's stone-faced leader up the wall. Young as he was, Ibiki Morino was sturdy as a boulder, but everyone had limitations to their tolerance.

Mawashi found himself almost spoiled, sitting here, enjoying a pleasant cup of steaming jasmine alongside the good-natured teenager, talking about the ebbs and flows of life.

"So," Mawashi at last prompted, after a particularly satisfying sip from his cool china mug, "how goes this month's reintegration exercise?"

Tenzo, with a breath of relaxation or exasperation (Mawashi wasn't entirely sure which), set his own cup of chai, and leaned back in his seat. His large, dark eyes darted here and there across the ceiling, over rapidly moving thoughts. "It goes well… I think."

"Who'd you pick?"

"That happened more by accident…"

* * *

 _"I don't ever want to see a cat again," said Lizard, fingering his jaw under his mask as the three ANBU operatives finally returned to the familiar green gates that beckoned them into the waiting haven that was the Village Hidden in the Leaves. "Or the Land of Claws for that matter."_

 _"Oh, bologna," said Frog, one hand firmly on his hip and the other strung up in a tattered makeshift sling, all thanks to a dislocated shoulder. With Lizard's help, Tenzo had managed to reset it while still on the field, but with all the traveling they'd done to return, the swelling didn't exactly have the ideal conditions to go down. No, they'd been far too busy with escaping a rough (but completed) sabotage mission in the Land of Claws, with a pride of angry summons at their backs._

 _"You love cats," Frog finished, head high, seeming to be in a decent mood despite his injuries. "You have, what… five of them?"_

 _"Two," Lizard insisted, at last removing his hand to cease fidgeting with the scratches he'd suffered. "Just two. That's it, and it's plenty."_

 _"Sure."_

 _Tenzo, seeing that his two comrades weren't going to do it, offered the gatekeepers a leisurely wave. Kotetsu and Izumo were on duty today, and despite their quite apparent boredom, they both waved in return. That done, Tenzo paused, and in his stillness, managed to get the other two the halt in their steps as well._

 _"I need to get the report to the Hokage right away," he said, and frowned upon noticing that Lizard didn't seem to be paying attention. "Lizard, you take Frog to the clinic to get something for that arm. Okay?"_

 _There was no reaction to hint that the older boy heard him at all. Frown deepening, Tenzo glanced to Frog for assistance, but the latter just shrugged. Of course he would be no help._

 _"Lizard!" Tenzo blurted, tone sharpened._

 _The abrupt sound got Lizard's attention, but when he finally spoke up, it was not the response Tenzo wanted._

 _"Hey, look, it's that chuunin," he said, gaze still rooted on something down the road._

 _"There are lots of chuunin," Frog deadpanned._

 _"Shut up! I mean my stupid shrink - that little Umino punk who thinks he's something else."_

 _Tenzo followed Lizard's line of sight and, sure enough, the young paperwork ninja approached from down the dusty street with an armload of manilla files - likely updates or extra work for the gatekeepers._

 _"You really shouldn't say things like that," Tenzo replied, giving the other ANBU a stern glance to convey his disapproval._

 _"What about him anyway?" Frog asked, effectively leaving the subject open for further discussion despite Tenzo's comment. At this point, such an action should not have come as a surprise, considering that Lizard and Frog were two troublesome peas in a pod. Any efforts to dissuade one while in the other's presence were soon proved fruitless. So much for peacekeeping._

 _"I already said. He's a presumptuous little upstart who thinks he can dig in to everyone else's business." Lizard clenched his fists at his sides, subtly rolling his shoulders._

 _Perhaps only action would persuade them at this point. Tenzo sighed. "Let's just get going, you two…" Then he moved to the nearest rooftop to continue on his way. They were still clad in their ANBU gear after all. It would be better to remain inconspicuous until they could get to the locker rooms._

 _However, he couldn't just leave without making completely sure that the other two would follow. Keeping an eye trained on the twosome below, he watched closely as Lizard and Frog began walking down the main street. What were they doing? Were they planning to just walk straight through to the clinic?_

 _Lizard led the way with his hands in his pockets, and it was clear he had a definite destination in mind. Then Tenzo remembered Iruka, saw two lines ready to intersect, and mentally slapped himself for being so quick to leave Lizard unattended._

 _But it was too late now. Lizard and Frog, in all technicality, could have avoided a run-in at all. The street was wide and rather empty this time of day. But no, Lizard had to make a beeline for the distracted chuunin and as he passed by, he let his shoulder bump him hard enough to loosen his grip on at least two files. Sheafs of paperwork swooshed from his hands and fluttered to the dirt. This, of course, made Iruka a tad more aware of his surroundings as he scrambled to catch the wayward paperwork._

 _"Whoops," said Lizard, his insincerity audible even from here. "Sorry."_

 _Iruka glanced up, and frowned at the ANBU. "Lizard…?"_

 _In a flash, both operatives were gone and taking to the rooftops on their way to the heart of the village. They left the younger ninja to clean up his mess in solitude, just as the wind was beginning to pick up._

 _Of course it would pick up. That was just how the world worked._

 _Iruka, frantic as he soon became, tried coaxing the loose papers into behaving until he caught them. The papers seemed bound and determined to throw his charitable tone in his face by fluttering and flopping just out of reach. Then a particularly powerful gust whipped up the main street and took a handful of papers with it._

 _"No!" Iruka moaned, before sagging where he stood to watch the lost documents fly to their freedom._

 _That is, until five tendrils of wood, each with a clean slit that could resemble a bill-shaped mouth at the end, reached from a nearby building, one to catch each paper. They did their job quickly and efficiently, and within a matter of seconds, Tenzo pulled them all back to him, reabsorbing the wood and gathering the lost paperwork in his hand. Then he hopped down, a few steps from the young Umino, and approached with reserved hesitation. He still wasn't confident dealing with people; he had been improving, according to his psychiatrist, but he'd spent far too long as a weapon on the wall. He'd been used, but only to kill, and the blood engrained in the grooves of his blade had made him rusty._

 _How could an ANBU initiate a casual situation? He would've offered a smile, but he still wore his mask._

 _"I apologize for my comrade," he said lightly as he held the papers out for Iruka to take. "He, unfortunately, is like that with everybody."_

 _Iruka was staring, now, his mouth agape. Silence stretched on. The papers hovered between them in Tenzo's hand, waiting to be taken, and the longer they waited, the more anxious Tenzo became._

 _What was he staring at so intently? It was making him uncomfortable._

 _He cleared his throat. "Umino-san…"_

 _Iruka started, blinking from his trance long enough to gingerly take the papers from him. Then, instead of staring, he turned to studying. This wasn't much better._

 _"That was…" he began, hesitantly but with evident curiosity. "The First Hokage's wood style."_

 _"Yes. It was."_

* * *

"Well, all things considered, it sounds like that went well," said Mawashi, stirring a little more sugar into his cup and watching each little crystallized particle dissolve into the hot liquid.

"I suppose. It could've been better, though." Tenzo stared absently into his tea. He seemed reserved, more so than usual, and that usually meant something about the situation was troubling him. Perhaps it didn't even relate directly, and only had a mild connection to the subject on the table, but those were things Tenzo had yet to disclose with his psychoanalyst.

"Don't underestimate small beginnings," said Mawashi. "Look, you and Kakashi: you were enemies to begin with, but now… You're his right-hand man, and as I understand it, you trust each other exclusively."

Mawashi knew Tenzo had trouble putting solid faith in people, but he also liked to think that the bond he'd formed with the prodigious Hatake was one of many good relationships to come for the ex-Root member. Tenzo, unlike many ANBU operatives, had the inherent desire to help people. To get to know them. And despite being introverted through and through, he enjoyed the company of others, mostly in small, manageable doses that could result in deep, meaningful connections rather than frivolous small talk. This made the possibility of healthy, powerful bonds that much more attainable for him.

"Exclusively?" Tenzo chuckled. "I don't know about that."

"You don't even trust me that much."

Tenzo couldn't hide a smile, but instead chose to stare down into his tea again.

Seeing that this subject was overworn already, Mawashi moved on after making a small note of his observations on his clipboard page.

"How are things going with Itachi Uchiha?"

Tenzo's smile subdued itself. If that instant reaction didn't speak 'sober subject', Mawashi couldn't say what did. He prepared to make a negative note, if this unspoken opinion was anything to go by.

"Good. Very good, actually…" Tenzo swiveled the cup between his hands, transfixed by the ripples that appeared in its contents. "He's a talented, dedicated ninja. He's executed the missions he's been given with professional efficiency."

And clearly, Tenzo had reservations about this fact. Likely, it wasn't out of a sense of guilt. If it was, he would find himself more out of place among the general ninja population than he otherwise would've liked. Perhaps it was more a sense of mourning. Between having his own childhood stolen away from him and befriending Iruka Umino, Tenzo was more than aware of what the shinobi world did to children - especially talented ones.

But that was a hazard of the occupation.

"People are often aware of what they can or cannot handle," said Mawashi. "Granted, sometimes, they ignore it. But when it comes right down to it, they know. Don't underestimate Itachi."

"Yes… but we shouldn't overestimate him, either."

* * *

 _A child. Of all the targets presented to them via the mission details, Itachi had been left to handle with the youngest one among them. Expected to brush it off. Just another mark on the list. A red check by a faceless name. The boy was even supposed to be asleep, like the rest of his family, but missions weren't always so kind as to make things easy._

 _The high-profile family was a target due to their lack of longstanding loyalties and tendency to shift sides when favorable winds blew. They also happened to be one of the wealthiest arms dealers in the Land of Fire. This created a conflict of interests when somebody with a wider pocketbook and more generous hand came along with intriguing offers._

 _They were a threat to security. The head of the organization and head of the family had refused to see reason from the Hokage himself. So they were eliminated._

 _But a child… In his time as an ANBU, Tenzo hadn't had to face something like that. He was fully prepared to, should the time come, but… This was Itachi. Itachi was barely more than a child himself._

 _Yet, as with all other assignments, the young Uchiha had followed through without question. Finding the child wandering toward his parents' room had been taken in stride, and with a hasty genjutsu and a kunai to the neck, Itachi had finished it quickly and quietly. No tears, no screams, and no wasted time or effort. Just pools of hot blood._

 _And so, after the mission found Tenzo catching up to Itachi outside the Hokage tower as an east wind whispered through the city streets, ushering in the sunset. The fading light turned blue skies to soft pinks and oranges, an eerily peaceful sight after their exposure to so much red over the course of the last 24 hours._

 _"Itachi-kun!" he called, speeding up to a jog in order to finally come up alongside the young Uchiha. "Wait!"_

 _Itachi stopped, but kept his gaze downcast. This alone was enough to concern Tenzo, without any added explanation. Itachi was a quiet child, but never brooding. Tenzo could practically see the thoughts brewing in his mind - the boy was likely running over the mission again and again in his mind. That's what everyone did. It was how being an ANBU worked._

 _Tenzo understood. He felt the need to discuss it, if only to help assuage the stinging bewilderment that came with the philosophical questions surrounding what they did for a living. The moral and ethical justness of it all._

 _But bringing it up, right now, didn't seem like the best idea._

 _"Where are you headed?" he asked instead, feigning a casual attitude, without being flippant. Such a thing was difficult to project, especially around someone as intuitive as Itachi Uchiha._

 _After a short hesitation, Itachi glanced up at him. His eyes, usually alight with a sense of refreshing wonder, were dark and clouded. Not quite like Kakashi's, but not like himself either. "To the Academy. I need to pick up my brother and take him home."_

 _Tenzo nodded. No doubt, he needed some time to himself as well, after that. "Mind if I walk with you?"_

 _"I'd…" Itachi had looked ready to object, but then stopped, waited another moment, and then looked down again. "Well… okay."_

 _And so, they walked. The entire way went in silence, and Tenzo felt no overt need to break that silence. He'd let Itachi know he was willing to talk just by being present, but it was up to the prodigy whether or not he took him up on it. For now, Tenzo was content just keeping an eye on him._

 _When they reached the Academy building, children had already begun filing out of the front door like spasmodic ants. Shrill voices filled the air, and little bodies bounded here and there, some in cliques, some alone, all with someplace to go before it got dark. Tenzo paused at the corner of the block, not so willing to go any closer for fear of being caught and cornered by a wide-eyed gaggle of pre-genin. Itachi didn't break his stride as he continued on ahead._

 _If he was going to say anything, it had to be now._

 _"I'm sorry, Itachi," Tenzo offered. The Uchiha paused. "About today. I wish-"_

 _"It's okay," Itachi said, "Tenzo-san… We're ANBU. We do what needs to be done… to protect the village."_

 _"…That's right."_

 _He had nothing more to say, and neither did Itachi. The latter went on toward the Academy, and a few moments later, a blur of black raced out to tackle him with a hug around his waist. Itachi smiled and laughed, like any good older brother would, and Tenzo couldn't help but stare in absolute awe, wondering at how skilled Itachi Uchiha was at burying his heart._

* * *

Mawashi nodded. This sort of situation was common among young shinobi. War and battle was unfortunately glorified before the youth in their day and age, and there were so few ways to prepare a young and upcoming ninja for the horrors they would face in reality. Those who had experienced it for themselves could caution them, tell them with simple words in hopes of making them understand, but nothing could be adequate enough. Still, all things considered, it sounded as though Itachi took it better than most.

"You can't feel responsible, though, Tenzo. It just isn't practical."

"I don't feel responsible…" Just as Mawashi thought. "It's just… a real shame that someone like him would have to deal with all of this. Like you said, all things considered, he's taking it pretty well, but I don't like the idea that this maturity of his could be taken for granted."

"I see." An understandable concern. Prodigies, good as they were, were so often pushed to their limits and beyond - as illustrated by cases like Kakashi Hatake and his father, Sakumo, before him. Their skill made them likely targets of overexertion and mental stress, which led to a breakdown in their psychological patterns and eventually… something cracked. Something, somewhere, gave to all the pressure, all the weight set upon their shoulders.

But, in the world they lived in, there was really nothing to be done about it. Prodigies like these were necessary to the Leaf's survival, and so their talent was naturally noticed, nurtured, and then put to use. What could be done, however, was to intercept issues like animosity and depression and redirect them before they could once again lead to tragedy.

And Mawashi knew that as well as Tenzo did.

He made a few more notes, before glancing at the clock. "Oh, our time's almost up. Listen, before you go, why don't you tell me a little more about this Hiding in Surface technique you've been working on…"


	6. Meet Lizard

**Meet Lizard**

 **Date Posted: 11/22/15**

 **Word Count: 1337**

* * *

From the first words from the smirking mouth of Hokamaru Hyuga - known in the ANBU as Lizard - Satomi knew they would have a problem. It wasn't often that a man could manage to offend her with the first five syllables she heard from him, and therefore, his ability to do so marked him as both a special case and a difficult one.

"Oh, come on," he bemoaned, yet the quirk of his lips and the tilt of his head told her that he found the situation more amusing than anything. "A woman? When I heard Umino was transferring, I thought I'd be getting a step up."

How could anyone manage to be chauvinistic in this shinobi world? It made no sense, with many highly skilled female warriors under Konoha's belt - Tsunade Senju of the Three Legendary Sannin only one among many, many others. But it seemed that this handsome young Hyuga had no regard for either social standards, or at the very least, women in general.

She made a note of this on her clipboard, which prompted the Hyuga to scoff.

"What? What'd I do? We're not five minutes in, and you're writing stuff."

Keeping a reserved, professional air and forcing herself not to react, she gestured to the chair opposite her desk. "Please, have a seat." His type lived for shock. Life was a constant push and pull of action and reaction that he enjoyed toying with, and such a deduction was readily backed up by the files she'd been given concerning him.

His white eyes were quite expressive, she decided. Compared to most other Hyuga, who were notorious for their noble, almost otherworldly airs, this young man carried himself with overconfidence and condescension. In some forms, this was normal for someone of his family line, but this was different. Bolder, maybe. Louder? Less dignified? She couldn't pinpoint an accurate term.

He strutted across the room - that was a good word, she thought, strutted - and fell into the chair she gestured to with an utter lack of dignity. He then propped one leg on the knee of the other, and made himself comfortable.

He must have only just returned from a mission, Satomi determined. His neck and arms had the dull matte glimmer of drying sweat. However, she perhaps would have to change that deduction; he wore casual attire - a selection of sportswear, including a baggy hooded jacket with no sleeves, and the standard issue slacks given to ninjas, with wrappings around his calves.

Didn't he jog? That must have been what he was doing.

She set her clipboard down and rested her elbows over it. "My name is Satomi Yamanaka."

"Ooh, Yamanaka," he repeated with a sneer. "Scary."

She granted him nothing more than a twitch of her eyebrow. Then she made another note.

 _Challenging disposition. Testing my mettle._

"You are Hokamaru Hyuga," she stated, setting her pen aside.

"You're pretty good at this."

 _Repetitive put-downs. Signs of subtle need for reassurance. Of what?_

This time, she held onto the pen. Seemed like she might need it more than she thought. "Tell me a bit about yourself, Hokamaru. I have Umino-san's notes, but I'd like to hear it from you."

"A bit about myself… Such as?"

"Likes, dislikes. Dreams for the future. Hobbies."

"Oh, that stuff…" With a dramatic sigh, he lounged back in the seat and seemed to ponder over this. He took his time, but not too much time. "Well… I like jogging and and my taijutsu practice time. Punching a random person is considered wrong, so I have to hit a bag full of sand, but whatever. I dislike other Hyugas, and people who try to tell me how I should live my life." He paused to think another moment, which resulted in a wry snort on his part. "Does anyone really have 'dreams for the future' anymore? I suppose if I have to say anything, it would be to defy the Hyuga legacy. As for hobbies… Taijutsu, running, weight training. That sort of thing."

 _Considerable focus on health, external appearance, and going against the grain. Potential for obsessive behavior._

"You include a lot of exercise in your daily routine?" she asked, tapping her lip with the end of her pen.

The Hyuga shrugged. "I guess. What else is there to do when I'm off duty?"

"I don't know. Make friends. Go out to eat with said friends. Read a book. Gamble away your life savings. There are many things to do in the Leaf Village."

Hokamaru's wry smirk turned sour - not to the point where it ceased being a smile, but it was no longer the casual expression he wore before. It darkened somehow. Interesting.

"Heh," he chuckled ruefully, "I don't really like eating out. Books are for dweebs, and please, I'd like to think I'm a little better with my paychecks than some."

"I wasn't limiting it to those examples specifically."

"Yeah, well, I'll stick with my current hobbies, thanks."

 _Rigid self reliance, despite initial laid back attitude. Highly independent._

"You sure are writing a lot," the young man commented, peering at Satomi's clipboard. "More than Iruka-chan. But then, he spent most of the time during our sessions trying to keep a lid on his blood pressure."

"You antagonized him often?" Satomi tilted her head, watching for the reaction. Two could play at these controls. His posture hadn't changed at all during this time, but his emotions displayed rather clearly on his face. But perhaps that was only a facade as well.

"Why not? He's a paperwork ninja, and a _chunin_. What does he think he's doing playing psychoanalyst for ANBU operatives anyway?"

Her pen came up again. _Possible superiority complex._

They continued on this way for the next hour. Satomi ignored the Hyuga's requent antics and often rude asides in order to glean between the lines. When time ran out - far too quickly in her opinion - and she bid him good afternoon, she waited until he'd good and gone before looking over her two pages of notes.

Hokamaru had a penchant for violent reactions, as demonstrated by his files and what little she could learn from his evident physical responses to certain nosy questions. He was quick to pounce, but also quite intelligent in the areas of people analysis and strategy. With that cynical wit came an adaptability that most shinobi would kill for - literally in some cases.

Not much seemed to faze him in the area of trauma, blood, or death. No, what fazed him was whatever was causing his own personal issues.

Animosity toward his clan, a deep-rooted dislike for tradition and social expectations, and an explosive temper that reared its head whenever one of these subjects came up.

According to his files, he was a skilled ninja. Highly valuable to his village, and an essential part of Team Ro.

But she could see the darkness. The one most thought necessary to even enter into the elite ANBU Black Ops. It was there, very evident in his distaste for the world. His was just louder and more volatile than most of his peers.

Which was cause for concern.

This anger, on the surface, didn't seem to be directed at any specific person in particular. But she knew very little of just how quick his temper was - was there a chance that, given the opportunity, a fellow shinobi or worse, a civilian might fall victim to that anger?

She'd compiled her concerns, and gave them a once over before slipping them into the file that would be turned in to the Hokage. There was a dim hope that any of them would be truly considered. Most shinobi, herself included, wouldn't see a great need for drastic measures at this point. If anything, next month, she'd assign him to some meager social exercises.

But in case there was somebody higher in the ranks who would see these shortcomings as reason for dire action, she was obligated to put it down.

 _Now… coffee. Coffee sounds good._


	7. Meet Otter

**Meet Otter**

 **Date Posted: 11/26/15**

 **Word Count: 1817**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto nor any of its canon characters.**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **Axellover2: YOU ARE MY FIRST REVIEWER. *throws confetti and gives you cookies* Thanks! :D I realized for myself that there are sparse few ANBU Flashback arc fics surrounding Kakashi, Tenzo, and Itachi that aren't slash. So, I thought I'd write one for myself for NaNo. I have a lot planned out for this story and God willing, I'll see it through to the end. :) Anyway, thanks for reviewing and I hope you stay tuned!**

 **ALSO, a big thank you to all those who favorited/followed! I hope you're enjoying things so far. God bless you!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

It was times like these that Red Uzumaki seriously questioned his choice of career. Why he thought going into psychology was a good idea, he didn't know. He'd once thought it was in hopes of changing the outlook of this shinobi world one troubled operative at a time. But it was getting harder to keep with that goal when faced with uncooperative clients - like Suzume Ochimashita. A certain Otter of Team Ro.

It wasn't that Suzume was an inherently bad person. On the contrary, he was a decent fellow. Polite enough. Agreeable enough.

But his blank-faced obliviousness was maddening.

Red slurped another mouthful of ramen, and then pointed at his client - or, in their current setting, his friend; he was on his lunch break - with his chopsticks. He made sure to swallow before speaking.

"Doesn't it bother you, though?" he said, shaking his head to rid his field of vision of a long flyaway lock of red hair. "Not having straight answers?"

"You don't have that problem if you don't ask stupid questions," Suzume deadpanned in response.

He sighed. That intentional ignorance, that was what rubbed him the wrong way. "Yes, but what if you were asked to kill someone, a stranger, and nobody told you why. Just ordered you to do it. Wouldn't that bug you?"

There was a short pause as the sandy-haired blond thought this through. "…No? Because I was aware of the risks when I took the job. That is my job. To take orders. Without question."

"But how can you rely so surely on somebody else's judgment? There's a time and place to concede to authority, but that doesn't mean you stop having your own thoughts and opinions." To Red, this was a simple truth. Who, in their right mind, just went along with whatever they were told?

"Thoughts and opinions shouldn't effect the mission," said the ANBU, sounding like a parrot repeating a popular phrase. It was tossed around so much among shinobi, one would think that was their ninja way, not protecting the village and its people.

"Even at the risk of your friends? Or the risk of somebody missing something somewhere, and an innocent person getting hurt because of it?"

He stuffed some more noodles into his mouth, rather angrily. But the noodles were a healthier target for his frustration than the person causing it. Suzume watched him with a blank expression.

"My friends are ANBU. They signed up under the same awareness as I did." He eyed the noodles hanging out of Red's mouth with distaste. "As for the hypothetical situation… That won't happen. I'm sure the higher-ups know what they're doing better than that."

Red swallowed his food and then banged the butts of his chopsticks on the countertop, making the condiment jars rattle. "There you go again. You put too much stock in those that were _put into place_ over you. Just because they have the power doesn't make them right."

"No," said Suzume, "it makes them in power. And it makes it my duty to follow their orders despite my personal feelings."

Red sighed. Somehow, all of this made perfect sense in his head, but it wasn't turning out right at all. "I don't mean to let emotions rule you; that's just stupid. But to abandon any and all convictions for the sake of a simple order? You'd sacrifice your humanity so willingly? Without a fight?"

This sent the other man into silence again, and Red felt mildly satisfied with that fact. He took a few more slurps of his lunch while he waited for the response.

This debate had been going on since the beginning of their monthly evaluation, which started an hour and a half earlier.

As if reading this new train of thought, Suzume scrunched up his nose and replied with his eyes on the counter. "Why are we still talking about this? The session ended twenty three minutes ago. Why am I even here?"

Red pointed to the bowl still sitting in front of him. "Because I bought you lunch."

"I don't even like ramen…"

"Too bad. Eat, or you owe me fifty ryo."

Suzume sighed, and played with his chopsticks instead.

"This shinobi world needs a revolution," Red continued with his point, determined to make it. "Our operatives have dropped like flies for generations, and only maybe… 60% of those have been due to deaths in battle."

"You pulled that 'statistic' out of the air," Suzume grumbled. Red ignored him.

"The rest are thanks to psychological stress resulting from their duties. The way we've been raising up ninja is all wrong! And part of it is because we've been telling you and you've been too willing to just throw away conscious thought and become mindless drones!"

Offense stained the ANBU's expression, and he folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not a drone."

"Prove it. Think for yourself."

"I do!" Suzume stabbed his noodles with a stick. "I think that I'm perfectly fine following the Hokage's orders. And I think that you're toeing the line between opinion and treason."

"Treason?" Red almost choked on his food, coughed a little and hurried to recover himself. He sent the other man an incredulous look. "Are you serious? I have an opinion and I'm not afraid to express it, thank you very much. Forgive me if I hesitate to kill without reason."

"We have reasons. Sometimes they're just as simple as doing as we're told."

"That's the point!" Red's hands waved as he spoke. He caught himself, glanced up at the man behind Ichiraku's counter, and forced his animated habits down. "It's not good enough! It's not good for your mind to let yourself become so, so… blank. Most of us have a personal nindou, but not you lot. You're not black, you're not white. You're an ambiguous grey. You don't have convictions, and they say it makes you a more effective shinobi, but I think it just destroys what makes you human."

"But being human isn't important in 'this shinobi world', as you say." Suzume set his chopsticks down on the counter. "Being a ninja is. My goal isn't to simply be human. I want to be a shinobi, more specifically an ANBU, and I want to do well as such. I do as I'm ordered. That is my nindou. There's nothing else to it." With that, he stood and stepped away from the noodle bar. "I should go. I owe you fifty ryo, okay?"

That was that. Red knew better than to push it further, especially since as of a half hour ago, he was speaking strictly as a civilian. He wasn't acting as a psychologist, or a shinobi. For the moment, he was himself and himself alone. That tended to loosen his tongue even more so than usual.

So rather than get in the last word, he sighed and nodded. "Fine. Whatever."

Otter made his way out like the hounds of Hades were at his ankles. Red, keeping his back turned toward the street outside the shop, waited until his footsteps had faded away. Then he sipped down the broth from his bowl, and set the heavy dish down with a breath of satisfaction.

"Teuchi…" he started, getting the shop owner's attention before he braced his elbows on the counter in front of him. "I don't sound treasonous, do I?"

The middle-aged man rubbed his jaw and 'hmm'ed while he thought for a short moment. Then he shrugged one shoulder with an air of helpless resignation. "I couldn't say. The definition of treason varies from person to person."

"I'm not wrong to think it's better to let yourself feel, though." Red played with one of his chopsticks, twirling in between his fingers while he spoke.

Teuchi gave a rueful chuckle. "You're asking the wrong person, kid. I just run a noodle shop. I leave ninja business to you ninja."

Red sighed. He was afraid of that. While he imagined a good number of civilians would agree with his philosophy, it was ridiculously hard to find support among his own peers brandishing the Leaf's symbol on their hitai-ate. Therefore, it was that much harder to judge whether or not this cause was wrong. He didn't think it was, wouldn't say that it was until proven otherwise, but he didn't like the idea of being willfully ignorant.

Not like Ochimashita.

"You've got passion, though," Teuchi said after a pause. "And I think it's a worthy goal, whether it's treasonous or not. Isn't that what your point was?"

Red nodded slowly. "Everybody has a will that taps directly into their emotions whether they like it or not. The will and the emotions themselves are not what cause the problems. It's the misuse of it all. That's what people don't get."

"People call that the Will of Fire, don't they?" Teuchi smiled. "Everybody has one."

The psychologist frowned at that. That didn't sound right… "No… No, that's not it. The Will of Fire is an all-inclusive concept. It's not to each their own. The Will of Fire is about the good of the Land of Fire and all its inhabitants. The actual good. Not what everybody thinks is good."

"But what if one person's idea of what's actually good for the Land of Fire is different from the next? Haven't you thought of that?" Teuchi spoke with a paternal curiosity, not any sort of accusation. "And who's to say what 'the actual good' is? You're encouraging personal conviction, but that's a variable you can't predict. Everyone's personal limits are different."

This was getting confusing. Red began to shake his head, feeling too many theories and questions flying at his mind at once. It was always so simple until he tried voicing it. Why did people have to complicate things?

"That's not… That's not what I mean. I don't mean let everyone define their own right and wrong. That's chaos waiting to happen. But… there's right. And there's wrong. In our efforts toward security, we can't blur that line. That will yield the same result."

Teuchi nodded solemnly, and raised his hand to pose one final question. "And who decides where the line is?"

Red's frown deepened. He glanced over his shoulder, where his client and friend disappeared. Every time he did this, he risked Ibiki Morino's wrath by toeing the boundaries of the professional/patient relationship. But the way Ochimashita thought… the way that everybody thought, telling shinobi who dared join the ANBU to embrace their inner darkness, their inner greys… that was wrong, wasn't it? It was so wrong.

But who was he to say that? He was just another shinobi, and not much more than a psychiatrist. He hadn't been on an active field mission in two years. He didn't have much authority. Just a personal goal.

"I don't know. I haven't gotten that far yet."


	8. Meet Panther

**Meet Panther**

 **Date Posted: 11/28/15**

 **Word Count: 962**

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"You what?" Shinzo Ishi thumped his elbows onto his desk, staring at the client opposite him with something between a glare of disbelief and a grin of surprise. He tried repeating over in his mind what had just been disclosed, and tried matching it up to what he saw before him.

His client, veteran ANBU Mo Akarui, stood just inside the office door, with an oddly shaped something strapped to his back. This something happened to look an awful lot like an old guitar.

Mo just smiled. "I taught myself how to play the guitar. You told me to find a hobby, so…"

"In a single month?" Shinzo himself had callouses on his fingers from the long hours he spent bowing away at his violin, morning, noon, and night. But this habit had taken 10 of his 23 years to develop and actually succeed. He knew that Mo was skilled, but was he really that skilled?

"I'm not _that_ good yet," said the older man, stepping further in and making his way to the chair awaiting him across from his psychiatrist. He looped the guitar over his head as he moved to sit down, and rested the instrument - which appeared to be in rather good shape - on his knee. "I didn't know of anyone who could teach me, so I've just been learning by trial and error."

"Self-taught…" Shinzo tried not to let his disappointment show. Oh, what Mo was doing was fantastic. Taking initiative, picking up an art on his own and using nothing but his wit and imagination. That was all well and good, but what he didn't appreciate was the fact that his own musical talent had come with the assistance of three different tutors over the years.

Hours and hours of grueling practice, hearing phrases like 'keep your elbow firm' and 'use your wrist' again and again and again until his ears rang with them.

"Why don't you show me some?" he said before his silence stretched on too long. He wouldn't want to dissuade the man's ambition with his own petty jealousies - considering that's really all they were, as much as the thought bothered him.

Mo, smile twitching wider, nodded and turned all his focus to the stringed instrument in his lap. He plucked at a couple of the strings, hitting a sour note here and there before he paused to tune. Adjust a nob here, a nob there, pluck again. He took a moment or two to get the notes ringing true, and then settled in to begin again.

He started right up with a lighthearted 4/4 tempo in B-flat. The chords progressed through a light, easygoing and friendly theme, strummed out with fingers that might as well have been professional with how well they played. Mo delved into the song, momentarily unaware of anything else.

This was the best part. The one Shinzo had been counting on.

As a shinobi, they tended to see the world at its worst. Criminals and murderers, death, blood, gore, and hopelessness in all shapes and forms. The hatred of the world spilled out for them to see.

Such dark things took their toll on the mind. Shinzo's second job as a counsellor was to pick up the pieces that fell from the staggering, wounded shinobi's professional masks, glue them together, and hand them back.

It was a cycle of darkness, one that all shinobi shared. A contagion, a virus that spread through these hard-hearted fighters like fire through a dry field.

But music… The arts in general, Shinzo always believed they had the potential to ease that suffering. There was just something about losing yourself in the universal languages of rhythm, melody, ink stroke and prose that soothed the scars of bloody yesterdays.

And whether it was a troubled youth like Shinzo Ishi or a lonely, broken veteran like Mo Akarui, music healed. Of that, the former could be no surer.

And listening to the lilting chords streaming from the strings on the guitar resting on Mo's knee, Shinzo could scarcely believe his ears, or his eyes. It was such an odd sight, that battle-worn face softened with discreet passion as the melody carried them away.

To think that this big-hearted man was an experienced killer - it was almost sad. Becoming a veteran in the ANBU was both easy and difficult to accomplish - the average life span of a Black Ops shinobi of the Leaf was between 20 and 25. It was the average age of unfortunate death for the elite of the elite, the hardest line of defense and offense in Konoha, the ones who threw away their hearts and humanity for the sake of the Leaf's way of life.

And here, one of the deadliest of those warriors was sitting across from him in his office, plucking sweet stanzas out on on a six-string. Up and down the frets his left hand jumped, while his right plucked and his eyes closed while he got lost in the chords.

This was remarkable progress, he decided. Fighting a pleased smile, Shinzo jotted down a note on Mo's accomplishments - not only had he learned the guitar, but as far as Shinzo understood it thanks to the gossip circulating through the Leaf ninja ranks, the 28-year-old shinobi had opened a pet shop in the market district just two weeks ago.

Shinzo could practically see the darkness melting away from his client there in the uncomfortable office chair. And not only did it make the young Ishi proud of himself and of Mo, but it proved that Shinzo's theory was correct.

Here… Right here was a man that was the very epitome of what an ANBU needed… and what an ANBU could be.


	9. Meet Frog

**Meet Frog**

 **Date Posted: 11/28/15**

 **Word Count: 907**

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"So then I stood up from the table and took five steps over to the sink. I put my bowl in first, and then my spoon, and then I turned on the water - to rinse them out, you know, before I washed them. I waited, like, 37 seconds for the water to get hot. I put the plug in, squirted in a little soap, and while it was filling, I had to dig through my other dishes to find the freakin' sponge. Stupid thing got buried."

"Yes-"

"Then I finally found it and decided to wash my bowl first. Bigger dishes are easier to get out of the way. After the bowl, I moved on to one of the ten pans in the other side of the sink - my sink has two basins in it, one for washing, one for rinsing. I use them backwards just for kicks."

"Hana-san-"

"I spent five minutes scrubbing that pan. That takes me to about 7:55 in the morning. Then I pick up _another_ pan-"

"Hana-san!"

"That one took me 7 minutes!"

No matter how many times Urusai Hinji objected, the ANBU refused to listen. It was no small wonder that his last psychiatrist retired so suddenly! Was the boy like this all the time? What with the rambling and the henge he refused to put down and the devil-may-care attitude… He didn't know how his sanity would stand it.

"When I said 'everything that's happened since your last session', I didn't really mean-"

"It had all this crusty burnt Shogayaki sauce - 'cause I'd had that three nights before, like I told you ealier - and I had to use a knife to scrape most of it off. I really should have soaked it or something. Anyway, I finished that one and set it in the drainer and then grabbed another one - this was the one that I used to make that roasted eggplant recipe I got from Kakashi-taichou. The one I burned to a crisp because I forgot about it? Yeah, that one."

Urusai kneaded his temple, willing away the mounting headache. This teenager had rambled on like this for 50 minutes straight! Ever since he'd opened his mouth to ask what had gone on since his last evaluation… This was Urusai's first session with Hana Yaseino, after his previous analyst, old Ganjo Naya, finally retired. Said he was getting old - at 62, he wasn't kidding. But Urusai couldn't help but wonder if this talkative boy was real the reason why. It was certainly making him consider retirement, and he was only 33.

"Oh, hey!" Hana's rambling finally came to a halt. He was staring up at the wall over Urusai's head. Where the clock was. "Look's like we're over time. Listen, Hinji-san, I'm sorry for going so far over!"

Urusai glanced at the clock himself. Indeed, the session had gone over - by six and a half minutes. He resisted the urge to send the young ANBU operative a glare. He knew. Oh, he knew. And he was mocking his pain.

The cheeky grin that the young man gave him then only proved his theory right. All that ceaseless nonsense, that constant chatter, it was a plan enacted, fully intentional and fully aware of its purpose. After all, if Yaseino could blabber on for an hour straight, then there was no time for other questions.

Still, he had other clients waiting. He and the rest of the T&I staff were tasked with evaluating each and every Leaf ANBU operative this week, and so they couldn't afford to spend more time than they needed on one single person.

His pen trembled in his tense hand. Urusai gave a stiff nod to his current client. "It's… no trouble. I should have noticed. You are dismissed."

"Thanks!" said the boy with far too much gusto. He jumped to his feet, and gave a casual stretch of his arms toward the ceiling. "I'll have to fill you in on the last two weeks next time."

"Uh… that won't be necessary." Urusai forced a smile. "We'll find something else to discuss."

The boy shrugged. "Whatever." Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets, turned on his heel, and marched out of the office. When he thought his back was turned far enough, Urusai spotted the grin on his face turning wicked.

Oh yes. That boy was a hellion. It was certain now.

Urusai then turned to examine his own chaotic notes that he'd managed to scribble down during his hour of torture. Mostly an incoherant mess, but he figured that best summed up the experience. _'Uncooperative,' 'selective hearing,' 'willfully ignorant,'_ and _'ignores any and all attempts at deeper conversation'_ were the main threads, along with several reiterations that this constant rabbit-trailing was intentional.

What a nightmare.

He wondered if it was worth it. He imagined Ibiki Morino's stern, disapproving face, and mentally backtracked.

No. Urusai Hinji was a shinobi of the Leaf. He'd faced many, many greater obstacles. He would just have to endure this latest one with steadfast tenacity. He could do this.

He imagined Hana Yaseino's impish little grin, cackling away in subtext as the real one yammered on and on and on and on and on and on and…

Urusai dropped his head to the table with a rather hard _thump_. Who was he kidding? This was going to be his toughest client yet.


	10. Meet Badger

**Meet Badger**

 **Date Posted: 1/9/16**

 **Word Count: 1521**

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 **A/N: So, believe it or not, I actually forgot about one introduction chapter... This should've gone up after Meet Frog. But here it is instead... I'll leave it here for a week, and then I'll be moving the chapters into the correct order. Sorry about that.**

 **ALSO, you can find fanart for this fanfic at my deviantArt: penelopejadewing . deviantart . com.  
** **You can find the Pinterest board for this fanfic here: pinterest (.com) / ssimaginish / fanfiction-as-the-masks-crack.  
And you can find my Youtube mix for this fanfic here: ****youtube (.com) / playlist?list = PLiLmJL6-ThegwyvJ3GaiOlyGLDMgiNNg_**

 **Without further ado, meet Badger!**

 **~Penelope**

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Izumi Nara kept her bare arms folded across her bust, over the thick folds of the standard issue olive drab vest, and through a few wayward dreads of blonde that hung in her eyes, kept her dark-eyed glare on her client for the hour.

She, blessed with the Nara's inherent sharp wit and keen eye for detail and strategy, was among the top interrogators in T&I, knew her way around peoples' minds, and very, very little could surprise her anymore. This wasn't to say nothing could bother her. Plenty bothered her. Mud tracked on clean floors, swindlers who weren't caught, shinobi willing to double-cross their comrades to save their own skins.

But at the moment, if she was perfectly honest, there was nothing quite so unsettling as the visage of a person who, for all intents and purposes, didn't give a crap.

Such was the expression on Tsuki Busho's elegant face. Badger of Team Ro was notorious for her poker face, so deep and so etched in every facial muscle, that it completely nullified the natural beauty in the full lips and thick, hooded lashes half-closed over icy blue irises. Such a cold, dead look, the epitome of emotionlessness. This was the face she wore not only to every psych evaluation, but just about every time she left her sparse excuse for an apartment on 2nd Street.

Judging by the permanent fixation of non-enthusiasm, one would be tempted to think the apathy was irreversible. No matter what challenges Izumi threw at her, the expressionless kunoichi remained as such. Like the visages of 4 Hokages carved in the cliff face.

She really shouldn't have been surprised. But at the same time, she couldn't help her mounting frustration.

"How about the goldfish?" Izumi said with a pointed hand gesture. "Last month, you got a goldfish like I suggested. Tell me how that went."

Tsuki reached up a pale hand to scratch at a few locks of her short and unruly ebony pixie cut. Her expression didn't shift in the least. "Oh, that… Yeah, it died."

Izumi resisted the urge to yank on her own dreads from the exasperation roiling in her gut. Outwardly, she was the epitome of calm, a testament to her profession. Members of T&I never lost their heads. "Died? How's that?"

Her client gave a nonchalant shrug. "How should I know? First it was alive, next day, it wasn't."

"Well, did you feed it?"

"I was going to," Tsuki droned in response, "but the food was in the other room when I thought about it. I didn't want to get it. Then the team had drills to run at the training grounds. I must've forgot after that."

Izumi, with a short hiss of a sigh, rubbed at her mouth whilst swallowing down a few choice vocabulary words. When she finally spoke, a bit of her mood leaked out with the syllables. Perhaps it wasn't so much of a bad thing though, to let Tsuki know how ridiculous she sounded. "How long did you manage to keep it alive?"

"A week."

"A week… how many times did you feed it?"

"Um… Once."

Izumi gave a curt nod and a helpless shrug. "Of course, that would do it."

Tsuki didn't seem to process the pointed comments, and just nodded along at her leisure. "Yeah. I don't think pets are my thing."

"Oh, no. If I keep assigning you pets, I'll have all of Konoha's animal activists on both our tails."

Tsuki arced a delicate brow. "Then just tell them to p-"

"I'll have to get creative, then." Without grace, Izumi flopped back into her chair, letting her arms drape along the armrests, and swinging her feet to prop up on the desk. She had to think, and think fast. Tsuki's attention could only be held for so long before she zoned out, deeming the conversation not worth the effort. Such was her way of dealing with the world. So Izumi needed to keep her pondering short and sweet.

She steepled her fingers, and mused out loud. "Let's see, what will you be doing…"

Something frivolous was out of the question. Engaging random strangers in light conversation, helping with a charity, substitute teaching, these things required a measure of… well, tact for one. And commitment. And a soul that wasn't frosted over like an ever-active jutsu had hold of it.

Izumi glanced at the clock. She had three minutes.

"All right, how about this?" Izumi, tilting her head back casually and raising a hand to illustrate. "Pick one person on your team. Doesn't matter which. And I want you to spend the next month getting to know that person outside of the barracks and missions."

Tsuki's lip twitched. Izumi knew and translated that hint of expression as 'ugh effort'.

Still, the counselor plowed on. "I'm talking about casual interaction here, Busho. Walks, trips to Ichiraku's, movie nights, whatever. We're going to work on your nonexistent nurturing instinct."

It took a short second, but the ANBU in question managed to school her expression back into indifference. "If it's nonexistent, then why do we need to work on it?"

Izumi clenched her calloused fingers into dual fists, and forced a grin. "We've talked about you nitpicking my word choices, haven't we Tsuki?" She kept her voice sickly sweet. If she didn't, she'd be snarling. "So drop it. Or I'll assign you community service again. You'll be picking trash out of the gutters for the next month."

Finally, with the most expression Tsuki had shown the entire session, she wrinkled her nose in distasted. It was a fleeting gesture, and only lasted a handful of seconds before she deflated with a sigh that her psychologist took as resignation. "Fine," said the kunoichi, closing her eyes to convey her weariness on the subject.

Izumi glanced at the clock again, at the same time, trying to simmer down her irritation. It was such a difficult task with certain people… "Pick someone quick. We have one minute."

When Tsuki Busho went to her inward thinking place, there were times that Izumi got genuinely concerned for her charge. She would dive so deep into her subconscious, with that same flatline expression on her face, and she would remain that way, utterly silent, for inhuman amounts of time. What was worse was that Tsuki rarely shared what went on in that place in her mind. Even when Izumi asked, she would outright refuse. Her usual explanations were 'it's too complicated (subtext 'not worth the effort')' or 'I don't feel like it'.

Thankfully, Tsuki managed to keep it short today. With twenty seconds left on the clock, she snapped out of her in-depth contemplation and gave a short huff, like she'd been literally diving into murky, watery depths.

"Tenzo."

Izumi nodded. "Good."

"Or Kakashi-taichou."

Izumi deflated. "What? Come on, Tsuki…"

"I can't choose on the spot. I need to think. I've narrowed it down to two for you. It's so you can have other ANBU keep tabs on this assignment, right?"

Izumi avoided eye contact, but any action at this point would've proven Tsuki's deduction. Despite her languid exterior, Tsuki Busho was no ditz. She had a mind like a steel vice and when put to use, its teeth proved razor sharp.

Tsuki nodded in response. "There. So, now you have two targets. It won't be hard to figure out which one I go with through surveillance."

The clock struck 5. Both women looked up at it, Tsuki with dispassion, and Izumi with aggravation. Their time was up. And Izumi didn't feel so good about that. But did she ever?

"We didn't get to talk about the incident," Izumi said quickly, while her client stood from her seat.

"What's there to talk about?" Tsuki stretched, scratched the back of her head and cracked her back once or twice before sagging into her usual slouch.

Izumi shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, the nightmares, the trust issues, all the usual stuff."

"You mean the stuff we talk about every other evaluation."

"Yes."

Tsuki shook her head, and started to shuffle toward the door. "What a pain."

"We'll talk about it next time."

"Yippee."

"Tsuki."

The ANBU paused with her hand on the doorknob, and glanced over her shoulder with a blatant lack of interest.

Izumi made sure her gaze spoke of how much she meant what she was about to say. She sat up, put her feet on the floor where they belonged, and braced her elbows on the desk top. "Kakashi Hatake, Tenzo… I don't know them personally, but they're trustworthy."

Tsuki's face remained the same marble sculpture it almost always was.

"They're men," she stated, twisting the knob. "We'll see."

With that, she exited, leaving her counselor behind to shake her head in disappointment.

Izumi Nara had seen a lot of people come and go through her office. Angry people, depressed people, broken people. But there was nothing quite so unsettling as the visage of a person who, for all intents and purposes, didn't care at all.

Especially when they didn't start out that way.


	11. Boys Will Be Boys

**Boys Will Be Boys**

 **Date Posted: 11/30/15**

 **Word Count: 5690**

* * *

 **A/N: I FINISHED NANOWRIMO.**

 **That is all. Carry on.**

 **~Penelope**

 **P.S. Another thank you to all those who have favorited and followed this fanfic! Drop me a review to let me know what you think of this next installment. :)**

* * *

Nighttime over Konohagakure was one of the greatest sights in all the Land of Fire. From the outer wall, away from the nighttime streetlights, one could see the endless sea of stars above, hear the soothing chirp of hundreds of crickets and nocturnal frogs, and occasionally, the haunting hoot or sinister shriek of an howl. With the evening bustle of the village behind him, Tenzo was free to enjoy nature in one of its most poignant points.

Granted, he couldn't allow it to distract him from his patrol, but he could enjoy it nonetheless, as he circled the Leaf's perimeter in solitude.

The moon shone particularly bright this night, despite being a waning gibbon, less than half there. Tenzo found shadows along his route to keep out of its exposing light; his bone-white jacket and armguards would illuminate far too easily in this sort of light. One of the downsides to being ANBU. At least it kept oneself aware of the surroundings, lighting in particular.

Walking along the outside of the wall in a stretch of shadow, using chakra to keep him steady and horizontal as he went, he soon came upon the main gate, the village entrance. It's gates stood open, as usual, and the nightguards were outside their guardhouse, looking quite alert. They seemed to be calling after something. Tenzo, being yet too far, couldn't make out their words, only the direction they were staring. Directly down the road leading outside the village.

He paused in his route and followed their gazes, across the deep forest shadows and into the open road, where he could barely make out a single set of new footprints. At their head marched a single shinobi - a young one at that. He still looked caught in the awkward gangliness of late adolescence. Perhaps mid-teens. He had dark hair fastened in a high-set ponytail, messy bangs spilling over the front of a hitai-ate, and wore the standard issue green flak jacket over a short-sleeved shirt and pants of a light tan color that practically glowed in the night's light. Likely a chuunin. He carried an armful of white fabric, and seemed to be in quite the hurry.

Now, Tenzo had been told to report anything of suspicion or oddity. This was certainly odd, but the gatekeepers didn't seem concerned - at least, not for any danger. They didn't follow after the young ninja; only watched him go.

But, these were Tenzo's orders. If he considered it strange, there was a chance he was expected to investigate, even with a simple tail.

Gathering his chakra, he leapt from his place on the wall and began vaulting through the trees. He concealed his presence as well; no need to alert the Leaf nin that he had a follower. At least not yet. Through the boughs he traversed, keeping his senses outstretched so as not to lose his quarry. He maneuvered to a place in the trees where he could see the road more clearly, and spotted the chuunin not ten paces to his left, still going strong on his way.

Tenzo managed to get a glimpse of his face, and noted a crisp, identifiable scar across his nose.

 _Umino-san?_ he thought to himself with a small frown. What was the assistant teacher doing out here at such a late hour? Shouldn't he have been home already?

About a mile from the village gates, Iruka made a sharp and sudden right turn, into the trees just ahead of Tenzo. He lost sight of the chuunin amidst the thick foliage, and had to pick up his pace so he could catch a visual again.

"Where are you going?" Tenzo muttered to himself, watching as Iruka vaulted over brush and fallen logs before resorting to the tree tops for travel himself. The, ANBU, still keeping his presence a secret, followed at a distance of at least 12 yards at all times.

At a small break in the canopy, Iruka paused, right in a shaft of silver light that streamed through the leaves - nature's spotlight. Tenzo froze where he was, about to pounce off one branch to the next. Upping the precision of his chakra, he managed to stay still.

Iruka whirled on his toes, and once Tenzo got a decent look at his face in the light, he could make out beads of sweat on the other teen's forehead, and a rather frightened expression on his face.

"I know you're out there!" Iruka declared, searching the forest with his gaze, eyes wide and darting. "Show yourself!"

Tenzo stiffened, and subconsciously held his breath. How could the chuunin have detected him? He was concealing his presence! What would that say of his skill, if a mere paperwork ninja could sense him despite his ANBU-level masking technique?

After another moment of tense silence, Iruka glanced over his shoulder in the direction he'd been heading, a bit of worry needling its way onto his features before he turned again and continued in his sprint. He seemed to be heading for the bluffs that formed the majestic backdrop to the Leaf Village's cityscape.

He found himself a little concerned at the chuunin's behavior himself, and grew more concerned by the minute. Tenzo followed the young Umino, daring to move a little bit closer to his target so as to eliminate all chances of losing him. Iruka stuck to a worn old trail that weaved with the land and followed a steady incline up toward one of the crests that overlooked Konoha.

As they went, Tenzo caught sight of a silhouette standing out against the midnight navy sky - a tall one, outlined in white by the moon's rays. Then he realized where Iruka was headed.

The old Saishu historical site.

But why would Iruka go there at this time of night? And why was he so worried, in such a hurry to get there? Tenzo didn't know the other boy well at all, and therefore couldn't be sure what would upset the chuunin so. So he kept his pace light and even, determined to find an answer or two, and maybe even something to report.

The old Saishu outpost had stood on these bluffs as a remainder of an old lookout system from the days before hidden villages. It was the last of its kind, all of the others having been demolished, or simply rotted away, crumbled by the forces of weather over the decades. It had been a historical site for as long as most shinobi could remember, and remained so even now, despite being a quarantined area.

Not so long ago, a blast was said to have been felt all the way across the village, resonating from the outpost. Squads of jounin and ANBU had been sent in to investigate, and they'd found multiple signs of illegal experimentation, said to be Orochimaru's, as well as a strange chakra-based residue that wafted through the air like a cloud, seeping into walls, floors, ceilings, clothes. All ninja present had reported a strange weighty feeling in their chakra networks, particularly in their extremities.

Due to dangerous lasting effects, the site had been closed off to the public and labeled toxic, not to be approached.

But Iruka was approaching. And Tenzo got the feeling he wouldn't be stopping at the gate. Now that he looked, there was a good chance that cloth he carried was a hazmat suit.

The trail led to a steady incline that soon hugged the side of a bluff, an old railing in place to keep the visitors that would've once migrated up the path secure and safe. Iruka never once hesitated in his steps, after that brief incident in the woods. He kept his eyes forward, and if anything, seemed to pick up his pace the closer he got to the old tower.

Tenzo, limited to running across the stone wall a ways above Iruka's head, kept his footfalls utterly silent and continued to conceal his presence, as little good as that seemed to do him.

Shortly, they came upon an old chain-link gate, rusted in the corners and sporting a big red and yellow sign that broadcasted its message clearly even in the dark.

HAZARD.

Do Not Enter.

Radioactive Area Beyond.

The icon of a skull and crossbones was a nice, convincing touch.

But Iruka seemed to discard the sign and, without even bothering with the gate, climbed up and over the fence to land solidly on the opposite side.

Now was probably a good time to do something, Tenzo decided. He let himself drop, alighting on the ground outside the old gate. The sound of his feet impacting the dust make Iruka jump, and he turned around just as Tenzo released the mask on his presence.

Iruka frowned through the darkness and the chain-link fence. "I _knew_ somebody was following me!"

"Umino-san," Tenzo replied with as much authority as he could muster, "this place is off limits. I'll need you to vacate the area immediately."

Iruka stared at him long and hard. Despite wearing his mask, Tenzo suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Why did this kid have to stare like that?

"Cat-san?" Iruka used his codename, which had been the only thing Tenzo had given him upon their introductory meeting. "Is that you?"

Tenzo didn't see the harm in answering that. He nodded. "Yes. Now, Umino-san, if you please-"

Iruka cut him off, his previous worry returning and flooding into his voice. "You don't understand. Two of my students are up there!"

This gave Tenzo pause, and quite quickly, the gravity of this situation hit him. If what Iruka said was true, those kids could be in real trouble. _Oh, brother…_

"How do you know?" Tenzo asked.

Iruka was already wrestling with the hazmat suit to put it on. As he did so, Tenzo realized he was carrying three in total - one for himself, and two more for the students. "I can tell you, but if you really want to know, you'll have to follow me. I'll explain on the way up there."

Tenzo looked ahead. The outpost loomed about 60 yards further up the incline, a massive stone tower built partly into the face of the bluff and rising to stand even higher than its top. Ivy crisscrossed up the old stone walls, and sections of those walls seemed to have caved in long ago. Overall, it looked quite the intimidating and precarious location.

And Iruka, clad now from head to toe in the heavy hazard suit, was already sprinting for it.

With a weary sigh and a quick apology to the heavens, Tenzo flashed over the gate and made a run for his fellow ninja, catching up without much effort.

"Explain," he said, and Iruka nodded beside him.

"One of the parents for the class I help teach came to the school this evening, looking for his sons - Asa Hotaru, who's in my class, and his younger brother Aki. I happened to be working late, so I was there to tell him that Asa had left the school at the same time as all the other students. Asa's father said that the boys had been gone all evening."

Iruka paused to watch his feet as they made their mad dash up the incline. "It didn't take me long to figure out where they would've gone. We went on a field trip to see the nearby historical sites for class today. I should've known by the looks on those boys' faces that one of them would get into trouble once they were out for the day. I should've made sure!"

"This doesn't seem like the sort of thing you could've prevented," Tenzo assured him. "You must've pointed out the dangers of this area to them on the tour, right?"

"Yes…"

"Then they knew better. You can't say it was your fault."

The outpost loomed near, and Iruka didn't bother to continue the conversation. Tenzo slowed down to an eventual stop about twenty yards from the building, hesitant to go any closer. Who knew how widespread the radiation was at this point? And he had no hazmat.

Iruka glanced back when his presence fell back, but didn't say anything to try and convince him to follow. The dark-haired chuunin finally slowed as he approached the main door, which hung open on one hinge, the other rusted and rotting the wood around it. He reached out for it, and then hesitated for a long moment. Then he glanced over his shoulder at the ANBU waiting behind him.

"If I'm not back with them in five minutes, get help."

As much as he didn't like the idea of the situation requiring such action, Tenzo nodded. It was the least he could do at this point. "Of course."

With a return nod in affirmative, Iruka turned his attention back to the door and took a single step over its askew corpse. "Asa! Aki! Are you in there?"

Tenzo could scarcely make out the distant squeak of youthful, high-pitched voices crying out in response, in distress. At the mournful replies, Iruka threw caution to the wind and threw himself inside at a run.

A sickening crash followed within seconds. Tenzo jumped. "What the-!?"

Dust poured from the entrance to the tower, and only billowed further with each concurrent impact. It sounded like something - a lot of something - had fallen the moment Iruka stepped foot inside.

"Umino!" he shouted, hoping for a reply. "Umino, you all right?"

No response.

Tenzo gulped. It was quite possible that the chuunin had gotten himself hurt now. Which meant…

"Iruka!" he shouted again, one last try. _Answer, you fool…_

Silence remained his only reply, and this meant something _else_ was wrong. Which meant that that it was Tenzo's turn to act. As if he would just stand there, fully aware that there could be at least three injured young shinobi on his hands.

He had no hazmat, and he really hadn't planned on getting himself infected by a highly versatile contagion, but what was an ANBU to do?

Tenzo gave a quiet moan of reluctance, and glanced up at the stars. "Forgive me, senpai; I won't be going on missions again for a while…"

With that said, he dashed for the ominous door, which looked now like a gaping black mouth leading into the belly of a beast. He would approach with more care than the frantic Umino, and so slowed as he came to the threshold. The dust that wafted in his face smelled like rot and old wood. Thankful for his mask for the moment, Tenzo peered his head inside and waited a moment or two for his vision to adjust to the deeper shadows waiting inside.

"Oh boy," he mumbled as things became clearer.

The entirety of the main floor appeared to have caved in. Splintered wood lay scattered everywhere all along what looked like a wide, open basement chamber; the sight looked as though some giant had come and stuck their foot through the original floor. The dust created a thick haze that kept Tenzo from seeing every detail, but as he scanned the wreckage, he spotted a huddled form of white among the many shades of brown and grey.

"Umino!" he blurted. His voice carried high above him, up the great tower, swirling and ricochetting off the circular walls before coming right back to him.

Below, the fallen figure groaned, beginning to stir. His movement sent bits and stacks of splinters a-tumbling around him, and he stopped, holding himself very still, propped up on his elbows.

"I'm all right," Iruka called back, voice rough as he fought to recover his breath. "I think…" With minimal movement, Tenzo assumed he did a quick self-assessment. After a short moment, the chuunin gave a quiet hiss.

"What?" Tenzo took the next step inside, standing on the edge of the threshold, the sudden drop a mere few inches from his toes. "What's wrong?"

"My… A splinter's lodged in my leg. A big one. Ah…"

Great. The assistant teacher had gotten himself stabbed by a highly-toxic piece of wood. That couldn't be good… Tenzo, preparing himself, gathered chakra in his feet and then picked his way down into the ruined basement, avoiding a straight jump so as not to disturb any precarious pitfalls or jeopardize Iruka's position. Who knew how fragile the wreckage was, and Tenzo wasn't going to be the one to find out and get all of them hurt more than they were.

The moment his feet touched the floor, he felt a strange weight on his body. Like the air was denser, thicker, heavier. It didn't seem to effect the ease of breathing, but by the strange suction sensation on his hands and feet, Tenzo didn't doubt that this was the radiation doing some sort of invisible harm. He could feel it in his chakra network, quite literally. Like a syphoning hose in a bucket. The sooner they got out of there, the better.

"Iruka-sensei!" came an echoing call from nearby, drawing Tenzo's attention to a large open entrance to a passageway he hadn't noticed before. It looked like some sort of tunnel.

That was right! Back during the fallout, the explosion had made the tunnel network shake, which is why the whole village felt it. After the authorities discovered the toxicity levels, they sealed off every tunnel. If the brats were back there, they'd likely met a dead end.

"Iruka-sensei!" they cried again. It sounded like three voices. "Sensei, are you okay!?"

Iruka gave a short, pained sigh, dragging himself up where he was until he was sitting on his ankles. With a glance, Tenzo could see what he'd been talking about. A large dagger of wood - 9 inches in length, at least, and 3 inches round - impaled his thigh right through the hazmat at an angle, like he'd fallen right on it when the floor collapsed. Iruka's fingers hovered around it, as if he wanted to remove it but hesitated to do so.

"I'm fine!" the chuunin lied to his students. "What about you? Who's down there?"

"Me, Asa!" came one voice, a mellow but boyish one. "And Koromi and Aki too!"

The chuunin's face went suddenly very pale. Whether this was from the blood he was losing, or the radiation, or this new revelation, Tenzo couldn't tell. But he did know one thing: there were only two good hazmats left.

"Koromi's here?" Iruka swallowed, and with a wince, began hoisting himself to his feet.

"Yeah!" came a second voice, higher and more nasal. "We were just gonna look around - honest!"

"You boys better come out here," said Tenzo, while forming a quick hand sign to summon a pillar of wood to help support the scarred boy to his left. Iruka seemed caught off guard initially, until he realized the source of his new aid and cast Tenzo a brief look of gratitude.

"Eh?" said the second voice in confusion. "Who's that?"

"Just get over here!" Iruka snapped, and his expression spoke clearly that he would take no more dillydally. Tenzo couldn't blame him. Who knew how long these kids had been down here, and as adults, he and Iruka had been down too long already. This certainly meant at least a day or two in the quarantine wing.

The scitter of little feet on hard earth pattered through the dense atmosphere, and within seconds, three small forms tumbled into the main room where the older shinobi waited. Two heads brown, one head blond. All boys. The two most certainly were related, and could be none other than Asa and Aki Hotaru - the ones who started the whole mess, and apparently brought a friend along for the ride.

"Whoa, it's dark out already," said the blond, who had to be Komori, as he stared up at the sky that was visible through the open door above their heads.

"You bet it's dark!" Iruka scolded, despite his wounded state. Tenzo raised his eyebrows, but stayed quiet. It wasn't his place to say anything now; he was no school teacher. He was ANBU. He was just the backup. "And your parents were worried sick when you didn't show up at home after class! They've been looking all over for you! And Asa - how could you bring your little brother here? I told you that this place was dangerous even for adults!"

Asa, the brunette with larger, darker eyes, had the decency to duck his head and look abashed, if not a little startled at the vehement rebuke. "I-I'm sorry… We didn't mean to stay so long! I promise! But the floor caved in and we couldn't climb back out and then there was this tunnel and..."

"'Ruka-sensei, my feet hurt…" mumbled the littlest boy, who leaned on his older brother's side and clung to his shirt tail, eyelids heavy from the late hour, or perhaps from something more detrimental.

Iruka's expression became both soft and even more anxious with a subtle smoothing of his brow, and he held out a hand. Tenzo could see his fingers shaking even in the dim lighting. "Do they? Come here, let me see…"

"As much as we all need it, I think we should save the physical assessment for the medics." Tenzo glanced up at the waiting door, and then back at the others present. "We should get out of here as soon as possible."

Aki had toddled over to Iruka as the Wood user spoke, and was now hugging his uninjured leg. Iruka, mildly distracted by the small child's lethargic condition, managed a curt nod. "Right. Can you help us?"

"Of course." Tenzo clapped his hands together in the familiar, simple sign. He felt the chakra pulse to his left arm and, stretching it out toward his new charges, released his handy wooden tentacles. They slithered through the air, one to each other young ninja present, and very gently coiled about their waists. Tenzo took great care in hoisting them up, aiming for quickest exit with least discomfort, doubling the chakra in his shoulder to compensate for the added weight. After all, he would need to carry at least one of these four across the village to the hospital. And more likely than not, more than one.

He didn't trust the older students, Asa and Komori, not to run off and start touching things with their radiation-wreaked hands and feet. This trip needed to be quick and painless. And Aki, Tenzo wondered how long the child could even stay upright at this point. He didn't look good in the least.

Up they went, secure in his wood style, and one at a time, he eased them through the doorway out into the crisp, clean night air. Relatively clean, anyway. Cleaner than in this rotting old pit. Only when he was sure he had them securely out did he close his eyes, concentrate, and split a few roots off of his wooden tendrils. He couldn't see what the result was, but he knew which way was up, and he knew he needed a solid hold of the surface in order to pull himself out without dropping them all. He forced more chakra through the veins that ran like streams of rainwater through the wood, felt it falter, and frowned.

 _What was that?_

No time. He felt his roots hit earth and plunged them in like needles into a seam. Down, down he reached them, getting a solid hold before initializing the retraction at his shoulder. With the wood absorbing back into his body, shortening itself, physics pulled him up, off the sooty old floor and into open air for a brief second. Without the sensation of supporting his own weight, Tenzo detected an odd burning sensation along his toes.

This definitely wasn't normal. Was it an effect of the radiation? Could it be what Aki had been complaining about? To think, Tenzo had only subjected himself to the toxic atmosphere for a mere 5 minutes. These boys had wandered about down there for what was likely hours.

He feared what damage was possibly already done.

"Who are you, mister?" blurted Komori as soon as Tenzo emerged from the depths of the old, abandoned outpost.

Tenzo, pretending not to hear, set his feet back on solid ground and unrooted his wood with quiet deliberation. Mentally, he ran through different routes that he could take to reach the hospital with the least amount of trouble. Three discarded and one finally chosen, the ANBU hoisted the four back up, took a deep breath behind his mask, and set off at a sprint.

At least it was all downhill.

* * *

"Mr. and Mrs. Hotaru got everything settled," explained the doe-eyed nurse all wrapped up in protective gear, who had spent the majority of the last thirty minutes ruffling her russet hair and casting Tenzo some of the strangest looks, all the while keeping up steady conversation. To someone like Tenzo, who could scarcely figure out what to say to people half the time and limited himself to giving and taking orders the other half, this skill was a feat in and of itself. Certainly not one he'd be mastering any time soon. Though, he could do without the hooded glances and half-obnoxious guffawing at every attempt he made to lighten Iruka Umino's mood.

The nurse - introduced as Kyou - double and triple checked their IVs and fiddled with this monitor or that for a few minutes before offering them a broad, cheery smile. "The boys will be staying in quarantine in the children's ward for a while, but after a few days, they'll be good as new."

"So," Iruka began, still retaining the same mournful look he'd had behind his dark brown eyes since Tenzo first encountered him several hours ago, "they'll be all right? I mean, there were no lasting effects from the negative chakra residue?"

The nurse's smile dimmed ever so slightly, making a twinge of disappointment sink through Tenzo's chest.

"Well…" she began, dropping a bit of the falsely optimistic facade - refreshing, to say the least. "The little one… Aki, we had some trouble with his hands and especially his feet… But we're calling in an expert. We're hoping she can be of some help."

"Hoping…" Iruka repeated, deflating where he sat on his gurney. "I see… His paths were damaged that badly?"

Kyou seemed to mentally backtrack once she realized she'd upset the young Umino. As if it would make everything better, she plastered that beaming smile over her face again and held up her hands. "No need to sound so hopeless, now. Tsunade of the Sannin is the best medic in the Land of Fire. I'm sure she'll figure something out."

"Right…"

Tenzo remained quiet, observing while the mostly one-sided exchange took place. Once it became obvious to her that such forced comfort would do her second patient no good, she cast an awkward glance between the two shinobi, and without another cheery word, she bowed, turned with a inaudible excuse, and bustled out of the room. Tenzo got a brief glimpse of the vacant hall beyond the door, where it led on for seemingly endless yards until he could no longer make out details of the walls. Then the door closed, and plunged the two into isolation once more.

The quarantine wing. One of the loneliest places in the Leaf.

Tenzo had seen worse.

He glanced sidelong at his companion, only to find the latter still staring at the creases in his palms like they held all the answers to all his unspoken questions. All equipment and standard issue garb had been stripped away from them, leaving them in flimsy hospital robes and leaving Tenzo maskless. He didn't even have his faceguard, and his head felt so light and unprotected without it.

Still, it meant that reading expressions could now go two ways. Iruka had spent a small portion of their induced solitary confinement trying to glance at Tenzo's face without being conspicuous. Such a tactic didn't work on an ANBU operative, previously from the Foundation, but Tenzo humored him anyway and pretended not to notice.

Ignoring it had proved the best tactic to get him to stop. Because while it was initially amusing, Tenzo could only stand so long under that deep stare that felt like Iruka was trying to solve the puzzle of your soul without you knowing.

Speaking up wasn't the ideal option, because it would likely mean subjecting himself to that stare again. But not speaking up felt wrong somehow. Insensitive.

"She has a point," Tenzo found himself saying without really meaning to.

Iruka glanced up, blinking away a sheen from his eyes. "Hm?"

"The nurse. She has a point. Don't count those boys out quite yet."

"Oh…" Iruka's gaze returned to his hands, even grimmer than before. He waited a decent amount of time before speaking, so much so that Tenzo began to wonder if he'd understood what he said at all. Or perhaps he'd understood right away and needed no further conversation on the subject.

When the Umino finally did say something more, it was quiet and hesitant and Tenzo had to give him all his attention just to catch all his words. "Do you… Do you know what that negative chakra residue does?"

Tenzo did. It had been a long while since he learned the tidbit of information, but he'd remembered not long after being admitted to the hospital.

The chakra residue that permeated the area in and around Saishu was said to be dangerously imbalanced. Supposedly, according to old reports, this negative chakra field discreetly absorbed into the skin of anyone who dared enter its domain, seeking, seeking for a balance for itself in the form of other chakra sources. This resulted in the syphoning of energy from any shinobi who set foot in the tower or the tunnels beneath it. The forced removal damaged the functioning chakra pathways in the source, particularly the hands and feet. Such damage, left undiscovered and untreated for extended periods of time, could become permanent.

"Yes, I know," said the Wood Style user, a tad more subdued and understandably so. He could now guess what Iruka had been mulling over for the last hour or more.

A child's hand was so much smaller and frailer than an adults…

"I should've…" Iruka hesitated, wincing like he hadn't meant to say that. Maybe he hadn't. Or maybe he was just rethinking the decision to speak at all. "I should never have taken them on that field trip. Aki's career as a ninja could be forfeit, now."

"Was the field trip your idea?" Tenzo asked with genuine interest.

Iruka scratched at his scar. "Well, no…"

"Did you explain the dangers of going near the Saishu site?"

"Yes, of course I did."

"Then how is this in any way your fault?"

Iruka avoided eye contact then and Tenzo could only hope that it was due to the chuunin actually taking his words into consideration. It wasn't difficult logic to grasp. Tenzo wondered if Iruka Umino just had that ridiculous habit of placing guilt on his shoulders for things generally outside of his control, similar to a certain Hatake Tenzo knew.

They fell into a strangely comfortable silence, despite Iruka's obvious internal agonizing, for the longest of times. Tenzo listened to the howl of the wind across the roof, the quiet, lulling bustle of medical staff outside their door, and if he concentrated enough, he could even make out the sounds of nocturnal nature somewhere far beyond the walls of this hospital. Still awake and alive, still very present.

There was something oddly comforting about that.

The door to their room swung open inward, and in waddled a lone figure trussed up in a puffy hazmat of their own. Standard procedure, required by any non-medical individuals who wanted to enter one of the quarantine rooms. Tenzo frowned a little, wondering who could be visiting them at this hour. One of the boys' parents? Surely not. Why would they visit him and Iruka when they could be spending this crucial time with their sons?

But no, a single glance at the face behind the visor let Tenzo know that this person was here for them. Specifically, him.

The visitor stood still just inside the room, long enough for the door to swing shut on its own behind him. Then, with a dramatic sag, he withered and groaned. "I hate this."

"Kakashi-senpai," he greeted the white-clad cyclops with a hint of surprise. What hour of the night was it now? Surely, it had to be midnight or beyond. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

Kakashi managed to offer his signature crescent-eye, which symbolized his smile. "Well, I just happened to be up reading when Panther showed up to notify me of your little escapade at Saishu. I came to offer my subordinate what support I could."

"How considerate of you…" Tenzo, smirk growing on his face, eyed the hazmat, which looked ridiculously large on the older shinobi. He had to wonder what they were thinking, giving him one that large. Perhaps they were short of stock. _But that sounds silly…_ "Nice getup."

"I could say the same to you."

That brought a rebellious blush to his face, and he avoided looking at that arrogant smirk by glancing toward Iruka, who seemed to have risen out of his funk just enough to stare at the elite jounin with a hint of wonder.

Then Tenzo recovered himself and cleared his throat in an attempt to brush off the embarrassment. "What reading material could've had you so interested that you st- Oh. Oh, no. I take that back; don't tell me."

Kakashi's grin, ever hidden behind the mask that never came off, grew even wider. "Oh, Tenzo, let me tell you. It's such a fantastic read. I can hardly put it down. I'd even considered bringing you a copy to help pass the time in isolation."

"Bring it here, and I hope they have to burn it due to contamination."

"Never mind, then."


	12. Left

**Left**

 **Date Posted: 1/25/16**

 **Word Count: 3363**

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 **A/N: And so we are officially in a new arc of oneshots, which will focus mainly on Team Dynamics. These will all be aimed to let you get to know the characters through interaction with other members of Team Ro. Don't worry; the POV will stick to the main canon three - Kakashi, Tenzo, or Itachi.**

 **In this fic, there will be a few times that I use the POV of an OC. But I know that personally, when an OC takes over a story that I came to read for the canon characters, I feel less motivated to finish. I don't plan on inflicting that feeling on anyone else. XP**

 **That said, I hope you enjoy this installment, and stay tuned for the next!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

Who would've thought an ANBU operative could own a _pet shop?_

Kakashi was never one to stereotype, but the idea of a seasoned killer and stealth operative owning and running a small domestic business certainly didn't fit most paths of deduction. Most ANBU agents had a hard enough time functioning at all off the field—they simply didn't know what to do with themselves if they weren't taking missions, completing missions, or filing reports about missions—let alone concocting a place where one interacted with the average Jo on a daily basis.

And yet, the Copy Nin found himself meandering the lively streets of Konoha in search of a particular shop he'd only recently learned of—a certain _Sasaina Koto_ , nestled in the rougher part of the business district. The area of peeling paint, sagging porches, and cracked foundations. This was the area left behind by progress and development, with few willing to put any funds toward improvement, but even fewer willing to simply tear down and start over. Some people just had a certain appreciation for the ancient, outdated, and abandoned.

"Are you sure we're in the right neighborhood, taichou?"

Kakashi pulled his gaze from the lopsided face of an old wine shop to glance at his companion, whom he'd honestly almost forgotten about. The boy was standing on his blind side, after all.

Itachi Uchiha took in the neighborhood with the same level-headed analysis he used to take in anything. Those dark eyes, rimmed with thicker lashes than most, saw much more than even some adults that dwarfed him in years. And there was the slightest hint of hesitation in the pucker of the 11-year-old's mouth.

"This place doesn't feel very… uh, Mo-senpai," Itachi finished, glancing at what looked like a sorry, ragged excuse for a prostitute (if the daring neckline and scarlet skirt slit from hem to hip were any indication) hunched alone like a wilting flower in the mouth of an alleyway they passed by. Either that, or she really had no funds for decent clothing, or knowledge of the sewing craft.

"I don't know about that…" Kakashi moved to stare straight ahead again as they walked, but his peripheral caught the jerk of the boy's head. Itachi snapped his gaze back to zero in on his superior, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Kakashi held up a placating hand. "Ne, ne, not like that. Look around; this place is falling apart. There are broken things everywhere—porches, signs, windows… people."

Itachi seemed to understand quite easily, and his pointed expression softened to one of the deepest compassion, the kind that only a child could feel. Even if he was no ordinary child.

"Ah," Kakashi said after a short beat, gesturing ahead with a lazy wave, "there it is. Just like the nice drunk said."

Itachi took the opportunity to roll his eyes, before peering up at the display sign that declared the shop's name to the world. Kakashi, smirking a little under his mask, followed suit.

 _Sasaina Koto._

The sign itself, in contrast to the majority of the neighborhood, stood out with bold, new colors: new paint, red and white, with a more modern style to the design, each sweeping brushstroke in the characters crisp and neat. The storefront itself appeared to have recently gained a facelift as well, old wood probably scraped and repainted, fogged glass replaced with new. On the inside of the small window adorning the front door, a quaint little handpainted sign read 'Open' with the hours scrawled beneath that.

With a short bow at the waist and a gesture of his palm, Kakashi offered his young companion a smirk-spoiled grin. "After you."

Itachi stared back, unflinching and unimpressed. "Are you scared or what?"

"What?" Kakashi said, mildly offended at the thought. "Why would I be—"

"Go first."

"I offered the pleasure to you."

"Go on, taichou." Itachi paused to poke Kakashi on the shoulder, where his arm wasn't covered by his long, black gloves. "Or I'll tell Tenzo-san how that questionable poster got in his locker three weeks ago."

Kakashi's eyebrows rose. There was no need to take it that far!

So, though he sighed and dragged his feet, he trudged for the door, and after shooting a wounded look toward the cruel blackmailer, pushed it open and stepped inside.

And a sweet acoustic melody welcomed him. It wafted through the air within the shop, dancing with the scent of wood shavings and cinnamon chai air freshener, swirling under the ceiling fans, bouncing off the walls and windows, before it spun over Kakashi's head, easing into his ears and in a very short, startling moment, it seemed to ease the knots of tension from his shoulders to his soul.

Ahh, music…

The thrillingly pleasant notes plucked from the gut strings of an old guitar, braced in the lap of the gangly man that sat on the floor at the base of the cashier's counter. No one else inhabited the room, save the wares—birds and beasts of mostly the little sort. Fuzzy, round balls of pudge that had a long way to go before they became anything significant—especially considering they had warm houses and spoils to look forward to, not combat and bloodshed.

The man, sandy hair shadowing his eyes, strummed away at the instrument with long, tapered fingers marked with skill beyond his experience. Kakashi knew this to be true only because he'd known the man long enough. This guitar? It was a new hobby.

Mo-senpai apparently had a lot of hobbies.

Behind him, the door let his Uchiha comrade in after him, and swung gently closed, a bell above the doorframe jingling with cheer for a second time. The music didn't waver; Kakashi doubted this was out of obliviousness. As Team Ro's medic and sensory nin, Mo had likely sensed them coming before Kakashi's hand even touched the doorknob.

Despite the quantity of animals within the shop's main four walls, the stillness of it beyond the music could almost be eerie—but with the melody weaving circles of bliss through the senses of all who heard, there could be nothing negative gleaned from the atmosphere. Surrounded by hues of warm brown and violet, enveloped in song…

Kakashi released a sigh he hadn't even realized he needed.

Itachi nudged him in the side and, after waiting to be sure Kakashi was attentive, pointed a small finger in Mo's direction.

"Look close," the child whispered, careful of the peaceful air around him.

So look closer Kakashi did. It didn't take him long to pinpoint what he assumed Itachi had been referring to—a tiny bundle of white fur curled up in Mo-senpai's lap. His tall, wiry frame dwarfed the little thing, making it look frighteningly delicate, but the kitten seemed perfectly at peace, nestled in the folds of Mo's long loose-knit sweater. It looked so content and comfortable in its place and with life as it was in this very moment. Kakashi almost envied the little thing.

Then he paused to ponder how terribly awkward that statement would've sounded out loud. That's when the music paused.

The sandy-blond head finally rose, and soft violet eyes took in their appearance, and then narrowed with a smile that was both knowing and welcoming.

"Good morning," Mo greeted, his baritone scarcely detracting from the shop's warmth, which threatened to flood out the windows and into the street. Kakashi wondered why it hadn't yet.

"Yo," the Copy Nin returned, offering his signature eye-wrinkle that was as close as he got to smiling, all things considered.

"Good morning, Mo-san," Itachi said, with a slight bow.

The kitten on Mo's lap stirred, arching its tiny back with a straining squeak. It stretched its stick-thin forelegs out, draping them over its keeper's thigh, just near the edge of the guitar face. Mo allowed himself to be distracted from his guests for a short moment, his smile curving further while he scratched the little creature's ear.

"We don't get visitors often," the ANBU veteran admitted, his gaze lingering on his furry friend.

"Business been slow?" Kakashi asked.

Mo shook his head. "No, no—customers, we get. Visitors? Not so many. It's not exactly a widely popular sector to set up shop in, but what can you do?" His stroking shifted from the kitten's ear to its throat, and the baby animal happily stretched out its neck to oblige him.

Kakashi nodded slowly, understanding despite the ever-so-slight emotional lurch. This was not an area popular with decent folk, despite Mo's own presence here. Pleasant, middle-class patrons were hard enough to come by, much less pleasant, middle-class friends.

Something about that idea tinted the air about them melancholy.

"How long have you been playing?" the Hatake nodded toward the instrument in his senior's lap.

Mo glanced down, his right hand running its fingers along the curve of the guitar's body in an almost affectionate manner. Kakashi could hear the rustle of the old worn wood stain under his fingertips, even from across the room.

"About a month and a half, now… It was Ishi-san's idea at the Eval before last." Mo plucked one of the strings, letting its open, unhindered note sing until the vibrations faded away. "He knows music. And he knows people. It's… been good." The older man's mouth quirked with another hesitant half-smile.

The white kitten's head rose up, disturbed by the conversation, and bleary blue eyes blinked slowly whilst attempting to scan the room around them. Sleep clung to its fuzzy head like static.

"Why didn't you mention this place sooner, hm?" Kakashi allowed himself to tease. "I certainly hope you're not hiding anything questionable."

"You're one to talk, Kakashi-kun," Mo returned with a dismissive drop of his gaze and a hint of wry amusement to his smile.

Itachi, taking in Kakashi's withered expression, couldn't resist a giggle.

 _Imagine that. An ANBU giggling. Sounds so strange, doesn't it?_

"In all seriousness, you simply didn't ask," Mo continued, still absently stroking the kitten.

Of course it would be something so simple. Mo Akarui loved people, loved interacting with them on a level that Kakashi himself tended to avoid at all costs. To Kakashi, people were exhausting; to Mo, they were life-giving. But one only got so much interpersonal interaction as an elite member of the village's highest defense. ANBU didn't have a lot of opportunities to exercise their social skills. This was why they had shrinks.

Yet somehow despite that, Mo managed to be Team Ro's most beloved member. They interacted on missions, worked decently well together (most of the time), and Kakashi even felt a sense of loyalty among them which was on the rarer side among ANBU members. But Mo had a personal connection to all of them. And he never had to do much to maintain it. Something about just speaking to him, or just being in his presence… one felt things. And to an ANBU—particularly an ANBU captain with history—feeling things was a luxury.

Even with all this swinging in his favor, Mo didn't ask for things. Not in the narcissistic 'I don't need anything from you' sort of way; he didn't see the need. He didn't force himself or his opinions or his problems on other people, because Heaven forbid he become a burden to others, intentionally or no.

So Kakashi, though he wasn't one to pry into others' business, knew all this for one reason, and one reason alone: he asked.

That was the only way Mo-senpai told you anything.

And if one wanted to be his friend, one had to learn things _somehow._ Via avenues that didn't involve secondhand information and fickle gossips.

If you listened to those, all you learned was that Mo had cut ties with his family and had a reputation as an unlucky pariah. But that could describe most of the men and women operating under the ANBU standard.

 _How many of us are seen as nothing more than codenames and numbers in a file?_

It took effort. But when one knew Mo and knew him well, well enough to be called a friend, one felt the ghosting fingers of humanity creeping up one's spine, resting firmly on one's shoulder, and uttering the faintest of whispers that none other could hear.

 _'Hello, old friend. It's been a while.'_

In a sense, Mo Akarui kept the rest of Team Ro on the edge of sanity. Remaining on the edge was an individual choice, but he seemed to be instrumental in keeping them from throwing themselves into the brink one by one.

And so, Kakashi Hatake sought him out time and time again. Because humanity felt good. And his precious people—Obito, Rin, Minato-sensei—would haunt him from beyond the grave if he ever let it slip from his fingers.

Not that they didn't already.

"Itachi-kun," Mo said. Kakashi resurfaced from his deep, mental spelunking to realize the other two in the shop must have carried on with a bit of small talk, and now the oldest among them was beckoning the youngest closer. The Uchiha obliged, crossing the deep teal tile to where Mo sat against the counter.

The latter lifted the guitar off his lap just enough so that when Itachi came close, Mo scooped the kitten from his lap and held it up in one large hand. His long fingers further emphasized its minuscule proportions.

"This is Gin*," Mo said with a fond smile. "He's the last of his litter, so I've been keeping him company. It's rough… the first time you get left behind."

Kakashi wondered if the veteran even noticed the way his own words hushed as he spoke the last phrase. Kakashi certainly noticed. And he was fairly sure he didn't like the way sadness sounded in Mo-senpai's voice. It had a nasty habit of cropping up from time to time.

Itachi, taking the little thing presented to him, let the kitten—which suddenly looked larger in comparison to the child's own small body—curl up in the cradle of his arms and stared at it for a moment.

"What happened to his tail?" he asked when he finally spoke again.

"Shut in the display door," Mo admitted with a duck of his head. "It had been busy, and I was in a hurry when I shouldn't have been… His tail was so small, the veterinarian said it would either heal crooked, or we could remove it completely."

Peering closer at the child and kitten—they looked so domestic—Kakashi could barely spot what they were referring to. The stub that the white kitten once called a tail.

"The vet told me not to worry—that all white cats get into trouble early on." Mo gave a short shake of his head.

Itachi frowned. "Why?"

Kakashi stepped forward, hands in his pockets. He gazed down on his youngest team member. "Because white cats are bad luck."

"I thought that was black cats…"

"It depends on who you talk to." Mo regathered the guitar into his lap, readying the longer nails of his right hand over the strings. "Anybody can be superstitious of anything, really. The vet even offered a discount on euthanasia, should I ever decide to put Gin down for my own safety." The ANBU veteran shook his head again, and plucked out a few notes on his instrument.

"That sounds…" Itachi wrinkled his nose, glanced between the two men, and then just settled for silence. Kakashi could follow the unspoken end, and knew Mo could as well.

Mo strummed once, twice, and then smiled again. "So I'm keeping him. We misfits have to stick together, don't we? After all, we all have so much in common."

Kakashi smirked a little.

Itachi, in the meantime, scratched along little Gin's scruff, making the kitten purr like a motor. "Will he be a ninneko?"

Mo laughed, and the sound brought back the comfortable atmosphere that had been lost to less pleasant topics. The strumming of the guitar began to form a chord progression. "No, no—that's not for him. But 'regular old pet' isn't so bad, is it?"

Itachi wrinkled his nose a little. "Well… I suppose not."

The two men laughed, the boy smiled, the kitten purred, and the music rose again and carried the time away until two hours had passed. Two hours of wholesome conversation, meeting Mo's family of critters, and even a bit more light-hearted teasing. It was a rare respite from the darkness that they day-to-day dwelled in, and a welcome distraction it was. Despite the rough neighborhood, it had been a long time since Kakashi felt such a sense of ease.

There were no enemies here. That fact was surely evident, if not a hint difficult to accept.

Noon came before any of them realized, and once again, the strumming of the guitar came to a halt. Mo, now sitting atop the cashier's counter after their brief tour around the shop, looped the guitar strap over his head, and removed the instrument from his person entirely.

"It's about time for lunch," the man said, sliding off the counter. He left his guitar behind, and rubbed the back of his neck. "How about my treat?"

"I'm game," said Kakashi, liking the sound of this. Itachi, however, planted his little hands—long since vacant of kitten—on his hips and gave the Copy Nin a pointed look. Kakashi stared at him, wondering for only a short moment what that look could possibly be for. The second that 'social courtesy' clicked in his mind, Itachi sighed and turned to their senior operative.

"What taichou means is, we'd hate to impose," the child said amicably, giving Mo-senpai the opportunity to retract his statement should he so desire.

Mo looked on with amusement glittering under his blond lashes. "Ne, I offered, didn't I?"

"See?" Kakashi raised a hand in a displaying gesture, giving Itachi a lazy excuse for a pointed glance right back.

The Uchiha ignored him, instead offering Mo a smile. "Well, thank you, then." The smile itself would've been thanks enough, for how bright and rare it was.

"Thank you for visiting. It's nice to feel like someone's thinking of you. Even a little." Mo stepped forward, ruffled Itachi's hair and clapped a hand on Kakashi's shoulder. "Off we go, then. You two pick where we go; I have no preference."

The threesome ventured back into the dingy streets one at a time, the bell above the door signaling their exit. They walked down the way shoulder to shoulder, an odd sight no doubt—the Uchiha heir, Cold-blooded Kakashi, and the mysterious Mo, strolling through the village like their camaraderie was the most normal thing in the world.

Before they left the pet shop too far behind, Itachi glanced into an alleyway, and gave pause. The men took a few more steps before they realized this, and stopped to look back.

Kakashi watched as the child stared off to the side, seemingly conflicted if they slight pucker of his brow was anything to go by. "Yo, Itachi—something wrong?"

Itachi didn't reply for the longest moment, and when he did, his voice had gone quiet. "Mo-senpai… do we have room for one more person at lunch?"

Mo raised his eyebrows, and glanced sidelong at Kakashi, who shrugged. Heck if he knew what the boy was getting at this time.

"I suppose…" Mo nodded a permission-giving, albeit confused, nod.

Itachi nodded back, and took a short detour to the mouth of the alley, and crouched on the ground. Kakashi, curious, looked harder and managed to sift through the alley's dark shadows to spot the ragged hem of a scarlet skirt, which moved away and out of sight as the Uchiha boy approached.

Undeterred, Itachi took a short breath before speaking. "Uh, e-excuse me, miss, but…" He gave the barest ghost of a smile—the closest he got with strangers.

"Would you like to come have lunch with us?"

* * *

 _*Gin is the Japanese word for 'silver'. It is pronounced 'geen', not 'jin'._


	13. Preferences

**Preferences**

 **Date Posted: 1/31/16**

 **Word Count: 3489**

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 **REVIEW RESPONSES:**

 **IWouldntStopForARedLight: Thank you so much! :D I'm so glad you liked it! And that I'm portraying the characters okay. XP**

 **Kasani: There aren't terribly many ANBU, who are trained to basically be nonexistent, enjoy being poked and prodded into "opening up". And not all of them are disagreeable! Just... most of them. ;P**

 **Thanks to all who reviewed, followed, and favorited! Please enjoy this next installment, and let me know what you thought in the reviews! :D**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

Itachi could think of little else that felt as nice as doing something for someone. It usually didn't matter what it was, be it helping an elderly lady carry groceries, or delivering a mission report when Kakashi-senpai was having a bad day, or buying Sasuke something for no reason and watching him find it, ignorant of who it came from. There was just something so satisfying about giving of oneself, knowing that you were able to make that person's day just a little bit brighter.

But every now and then—though even Itachi admitted it was a rare thing indeed—he couldn't help but wonder over the worth of such well-doing. This rare happenstance occurred around a select few people.

Kakashi-senpai was one of those people. As good as it felt to give the team captain a helping hand once in a while, the satisfaction wore out its welcome rather quickly when the captain in question began treating such acts as commonplace. Like handing Itachi the mission paperwork when Tenzo wasn't around to pawn it off on, as if it were a sense of duty that drove Itachi to ease that burden rather than one of charity. Just because he had offered a helping hand on occasion did not mean that he had signed himself up to be Kakashi-taichou's scapegoat. The feeling of being taken for granted was a glaringly obvious and painfully annoying one. And yet, Itachi continued to do his captain the same favors.

Iruka Umino, the young assistant teacher at the Academy, was another one of the few who could strain Itachi's patience. The older boy, kind and pleasant a person as he was at heart, had a stubborn streak as plain and permanent as the scar on his face. No sooner did one offer charity than was it refused—sometimes so boldly, Itachi had to take a breath and remind himself that it was not out of any personal animosity toward Itachi himself. Iruka never intended any harm toward another's feelings; he was just as proud as an ancient stone statue, and just as unmoving when he set his mind to something. Some called him a pushover, but not Itachi. Itachi had seen the chuunin put his foot down. 'Twas a terrifying sight to behold—especially when beheld in response to a simple, well-intended offer of aid or advice. Which for some reason, Itachi kept giving.

And third in this list of vexatious individuals was none other than the bare-headed Hyuga beside whom Itachi currently stood, whilst he watched the former go through a series of uncomfortable-looking stretches. The view of the village far below, under the watchful eyes of four kages' stony vigil, provided a dramatic backdrop; a wild wind swept up the face of the bluffs and threw dust in milky Byakugan irises, interrupting the stretching and eliciting a violent curse instead.

Every now and again, Itachi wondered if this particular Hyuga didn't actually belong on the _top_ of the list…

"You sure about this, squirt?" Hokamaru said at length, after rubbing his eyes watery and then finagling his wiry arms into a particularly awkward stretch. "I mean, it takes conditioning to be able to do this sort of thing, to this extent."

"It's a jog," Itachi replied, frowning a little. "It's not like it's complicated."

Hokamaru guffawed in the tail end of his stretch, rolling his shoulders before planting his hands on his hips. His lavender eyes narrowed with something akin to offense. "No—just hard. This is the entire circumference Leaf village we're talking about. But why should you listen to me? It's not like I do this every day or anything." With that, the Hyuga huffed and closed his eyes, raising his head with definitive and sarcastic resignation.

Itachi sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes for the umpteenth time in the last twenty minutes or so. This particular shinobi tended to have this effect on people, as far as the young Uchiha had observed.

Even so, Itachi forced the annoyance from his face, and instead offered the older ANBU a pleasant smile - an olive branch, as it were. "Sorry, Hoka-san. I just never thought of a jog as a difficult thing before. You must practice it on a much more disciplined level than I do."

And that was the truth of it. Given how often he had seen the older teen on his runs, Itachi had no problems admitting Hokamaru's seniority on that level.

The Hyuga didn't seem terribly uncomfortable with it either. The subtle deference seemed to sooth his hackles back down, until he was his casual self again. He even shrugged. "Nah—it's just a matter of consistency. Regularity, you know?"

"Ooh, two 4+ syllable words in a row," said a dry voice, which promptly reminded the two ninjas of the third party in their midst. Tenzo's eyebrows were lax on his forehead, indicating no expression whatsoever save a hint of dryness, as he held up the stopwatch in his hand. "Are you two done? You've taken 10 minutes longer than usual with your stretches, Hokamaru; I'd like to get home to my dinner sooner than later."

Hokamaru snorted, nose wrinkling with wry amusement. "What, your dinner of instant-ramen-for-one?"

Tenzo scowled. "I have a little more culinary t-"

"All right, I'm ready!" Hokamaru interrupted, utterly disregarding Tenzo in favor of offering Itachi a childish grin. "You, Itachi-kun?"

The blatant antagonism made Itachi's frown return. "I'm ready when Tenzo-senpai is." He felt the need to reaffirm Tenzo's importance in the moment, where the Hyuga had neglected it. Such an occurrence was rather common among Team Ro—shrugging Tenzo off, that is—but that didn't make it any easier to watch.

"He's ready," said Hoka, waving a dismissive hand in the wood user's direction. "If he wasn't, he wouldn't be nagging. Get in your starting position, kid; let's do this. Remember, no chakra."

Reluctant to leave things as they were but seeing no immediate way to avoid it, Itachi stepped up to the squiggly excuse for a starting line that Hokamaru had carved in the dirt with his heel.

Tenzo, to his credit, did nothing but sigh at his teammate's antics, before seemingly recovering enough to square his shoulders and step back. He held the watch up, poised and staring at them over the watch face with deliberation.

A beat or two of tense silence followed as Hokamaru set his feet apart, one behind, one slightly ahead, and braced his knees in preparation. Itachi stared at the Hyuga's feet, then at his own—planted firmly side-by-side and directly beneath him—and almost wondered if there really was more to a simple jog than he initially imagined.

Or maybe it was all in Hokamaru's mind.

The button clicked.

"Start," Tenzo said.

"Loser foots the bill for dango!" Hokamaru crowed as he took off, his long legs easily careening him forward and ahead.

Itachi, not one to be taken off guard, followed quickly—albeit with shorter strides—behind him. "Says who?"

"Says me." Hokamaru offered a toothy grin. "Last one back to this spot on the monument pays the price for slacking."

Itachi rolled his eyes again at last. "You can't just make up rules as you go."

"Sure I can. I've been doing it my whole life! Hasn't stopped me yet!"

With that, the Hyuga let his steady pace carry him ahead. The gap between them grew wider, pace by pace, until Itachi managed to find a gait that matched Hokamaru's well enough to halt his loss of ground. Still, he had almost a whole block of space between him and the older shinobi—substantially increasing his chances of paying for a supper that Hokamaru likely wouldn't eat anyway. Hokamaru just wasn't an 'eating out' sort of person. Itachi knew this through simple observation.

The curve of the bluff arced to the left, and began to decline. Focusing on absorbing shock with his ankles and knees, leaning forward into the wind, Itachi picked up his pace. Perhaps it was better that he treated this like a training exercise rather than a casual jog…

Objective: win.

It took Itachi Uchiha a full three seconds to completely shift his mindset. The best way to approach a challenge was as a challenger, not a teammate. So, he settled back into his shinobi persona—the collected, calculating one that everyone watched him in awe for. The one that matured him beyond his years, and earned him the reputation he had as Konoha's coldest rising star.

With this perspective, catching up to Hokamaru—who was still treating this as a casual game of endurance—was easy. And seeing how they hadn't even reached the bottom of the decline yet, meant that Itachi still had a lot of gravity to work in his favor.

The Hyuga took in his appearance, coming up on his right, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. Itachi imagined that he looked like business, and it was probably good that Hokamaru saw it. Though he didn't like being seen as nothing but a tool to be used, or a child to be underestimated, Itachi didn't mind pulling the maturity rank card now and then.

"Ahh, Little Boy's getting serious, eh?" Hokamaru quipped, smirking in his direction. The needled jibe found its mark, and Itachi scowled.

 _Don't validate it. It is his mistake. Show him why you're on his team._

Taking a deep breath, the boy schooled his features back into neutrality, and rather than respond, he simply pulled further ahead. He passed his older teammate just as the ground leveled out and their pace took them through a curtain of trees. Wavering boughs interrupted the sun's warmth, and cast shadows around them, the length and angle of their shadows attesting to the late evening. Itachi used the leveling of his momentum to slingshot himself forward.

"Ahh, so that's how it is!" Hokamaru laughed jovially, and picked up his own pace, integrating a bit of his own shinobi dash into his run. Itachi sensed the spike of competition, and swallowed a little.

If Hokamaru got too serious, would Itachi really be able to keep up? After all, the Hyuga had been on Team Ro for years, and that wouldn't be unless it was with good reason.

 _Worry about that later, if it happens at all. Focus on yourself._

Hokamaru's previously set route took them along the outer edge of Konohagakure's great wall, in a path of cleared ground about as wide as a four-man jounin squad standing shoulder to shoulder. Very little would get in their way in this course, seeing as they would never once enter into the city streets themselves. Pedestrian traffic and oddball buildings were not obstacles to consider.

At least, that's what Itachi assumed. The pair raced along the wall, keeping neck-and-neck for the most part—Itachi had his moments to surge ahead, only for the Hyuga to match paces and creep up beside him not long after—until they reached the halfway point: the Main Gate.

And it was then that coincidence decided to smile upon the two of them and their silly game, for no sooner had the painted emerald doors come into view, then a group of shinobi came moseying out into the orange glow of evening.

"What a gorgeous sunset!" green-clad Might Gai trumpeted, throwing his arms up with vigor as a great beaming grin split his face. "I tell you, it's times like this that make me appreciate the vast natural beauty that surrounds us every day—it's so youthful!"

Behind him, Asuma Sarutobi, Kurenai Yuhi, Genma Shiranui, and Kakashi-taichou himself all looked about ready to keel over in exasperated weariness.

"Coming through!" Hokamaru blared, loud and clear, before rushing past Gai without bothering to adjust his trajectory. He nearly threw the other ninja off his feet, with how violently Gai flinched backward.

"What the-!?" was the intelligent response the taijutsu specialist managed to stammer.

Itachi took a more graceful route, gathering up and launching himself right over their heads. Midair, he could spot Asuma and Kurenai's looks of shock, Genma's of surprise, and Kakashi's of, well, indifference, save for the ever-so-slight quirk of his mouth under the mask—a smirk. Before the Uchiha's feet had even touched back to the ground, the Copy Nin had returned to his book, though the smirk remained.

Itachi's toes hit the dirt, and he was off again, apologizing over his shoulder.

"Sorry! Can't explain!"

"What are they doing?" his keen ears heard Genma drone. "Wait, don't tell me; it's probably your bad influence, Kakashi, Gai."

Kakashi just chuckled, while Gai flew into a tirade that Itachi didn't need enhanced hearing to make out.

"A bad influence!? Me!? How dare you insinuate-!"

"The Hyuga started it," Kakashi interrupted, the smirk still evident in his words, even as Itachi glanced back and could no longer spot the group beyond the wall. "And I'm betting the Uchiha will finish it."

"Isn't that the kid they call-"

Itachi didn't get to hear what Asuma Sarutobi thought people called him. He was running at a full dash, now, and with the distance between them growing so quickly, their voices finally passed out of hearing range. Putting his mind back into gear, the young Uchiha heir threw himself harder into his pace, and came up behind Hokamaru. The latter seemed to be going steady, still at a more casual run than a dash. The run was sloppy, unprofessional, and lacked any and all finesse.

But Itachi supposed finesse wasn't the goal. Winning was.

"Watch yourself, kid," Hokamaru called to him as he passed by, warning evident in his tone. "You'll burn out at that pace!"

Itachi had no concerns over doing such a thing. He'd run farther for longer stints of time with limited chakra on official missions. This would be no different.

On the route went, following the curve of the wall, shielded between stone and tree. Nothing else interrupted them, and at the 3-quarter mark, Itachi looked back to gauge his lead. Hokamaru had fallen numerous lengths behind, and from this distance, it almost looked like his pace had slowed.

Itachi had a solid lead. But why was the Hyuga slowing down?

Surely he couldn't be so tired yet?

They were shinobi. Endurance was their greatest testament. It was a key part of what made them who they were. Without it, a shinobi could not perform effectively.

So what was the deal?

It wasn't until they were a mere two miles from their destination that Itachi allowed himself to begin slowing his pace in order to find out the answer. Hokamaru only continued to slow. Itachi had a strange, not-so-good feeling about it. He wasn't sure why, but something in him had compassion on his fellow ninja—even if it was to turn out there was no need.

"Getting tired, eh?" came Hokamaru's voice—ragged from heavy breathing. "At this rate, you'll be paying for a round of dango. Better hoof it, squirt!"

All the patronizing was beginning to grate, but Itachi managed to ignore it for the moment, instead listening to the faltering gait that slowly gained ground on him. He could hear the rattling breaths that wrenched from his teammate's throat, and more concerned drowned out what was left of the irritation.

He'd known Hokamaru was one of the least durable in Team Ro—this was common knowledge to all 8 members, and they always accounted for the slack. But to get this fatigued over a jaunt?

So, Itachi let himself slow further, and watched as Hokamaru passed him at a jog much slower than he started out with. The Hyuga gave him a smirk in passing, oblivious to the Uchiha's internal analyzing, and gave a casual wave over his shoulder.

"What did I tell you earlier? Burnout!"

Itachi certainly felt the strain in his calves and thighs, but he could've kept his previous pace at least until they reached the finish line, which was in sight at the top of the bluff that sported the Hokage monument. He could make out Tenzo's form, sitting cross-legged with his chin propped in his hand.

It was so close. But something in Itachi told him that losing to an 11-year-old in a chakra-less race would do more than make the Hyuga irritated. He sensed a deeper level to this, but for the life of him, couldn't put his finger on what or why. So he just kept his pace slow, and in the next few minutes, watched Hokamaru stagger across his makeshift line. Tenzo clicked the button, and the challenge was officially over.

"Oh gosh…" the Hyuga panted, leaning forward to brace his hands on his knees. The evening sun, dipping to brush against the horizon, made the sheen of sweat on his lean arms glint gold. "Oh, by the Kyuubi, that was rough. Whoo…"

Itachi kept himself steady even as he came upon the finish line himself, crossed it, and trotted to a stop. Indeed, his breaths were hot in his throat, but it only took a few calming gulps to get a handle on himself. The Hyuga wasn't so lucky.

"You lose. But holy crap, kid," Hokamaru said, squinting at him—though whether that was out of his suspicion or simply to keep sweat from dripping in his eyes, Itachi couldn't tell. "You're… barely out of breath! How even…" The older boy drifted back into panting, saving what oxygen he was managing to get.

He swallowed down a particularly deep gulp of air, and raised his gaze to Itachi once more. "Y-You didn't use chakra, did you?"

Itachi shook his head, frowning. "No; I wouldn't cheat."

Hokamaru nodded with a sarcastic eyeroll thrown in. "Of course not. What was I thinking? You're just an overachiever."

Ah, there it was. If you underperformed, you were ridiculed. If you overperformed, you were ridiculed. There was no pleasing people. Such was the twisted way of the world. But there wasn't anything he could do about _that_ particular can of worms, engrained into human nature as it was, so he just left it alone.

So what if he had lost? He had finished well, in his own opinion, and he couldn't let Hokamaru's grumbling ruin the experience more than it already had. After all, he would've liked to relish in the adrenaline high while he had it. So much for that.

Itachi sighed, further drowning the beat of his own heart in his ears. He was tired, ridiculously so, but not like Hokamaru, and that niggling part of his mind wondered at that—wondered why, and worried. But outwardly, he kept his concern to himself. Hokamaru didn't like pity, so Itachi wouldn't spoil his mood further by showing it.

"Whatever the case, I suppose I owe the two of you dango," said the young Uchiha, managing to offer a weary smile to his comrades.

Tenzo pushed himself up from the ground, dusted off his pants, and slapped the stopwatch into Hokamaru's hand. "35.17. A whole seven minutes faster than last time."

Hokamaru dragged in a deep breath. "Oh, yeah, only because this little hellion turned it into a race."

" _He_ did?" Tenzo raised an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips. "I didn't hear him calling out surprise stakes at the last second."

"Tch, whatever, twig-brain…"

The older two descended into casual jabs, their version of banter, and Itachi fell into step behind them. He watched as Hokamaru steadily regained his breath, stood tall again, and reassumed his confidence. His unusual fatigue seemed to fade into nothing, evidenced only by the gleam of drying sweat along his neck and arms, and the lingering doubt in Itachi's mind.

So it was true he was one of those insufferable people, more often than not. His patronizing attitude certainly merited his place on Itachi's list, and it didn't look like that would be changing soon.

But as it was with the others who qualified for a place on that same list, Itachi could never really bring himself to retaliate. Retaliating would be graceless, and throwing fire on fire never helped anything. So he took it like an adult, returned mistreatment (unwitting or no) with kindness, and didn't expect anyone to notice. And they didn't. In a way, that was all Itachi needed: the knowledge that he had done well in his own eyes, done what he believed was right, regardless of what others thought.

"Hey, squirt, you collapse back there? You still have to pay for some sweets. Move those stubby legs of yours and get your baby-fat behind over here!"

Itachi rolled his eyes. His patience was certainly well-exercised. That didn't mean he had to like it all the time.


	14. Right

**Right**

 **Date Posted: 2/8/16**

 **Word Count: 3262**

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"How often do you just stop and consider that you might be wrong?"

Tenzo didn't make it a habit of sticking his nose into others' business. It was rude, and quite frankly, he didn't want to be known as 'that guy'. The guy who was always crowding too close, nitpicking at the lives of those he considered friends. Just the idea that he could become that person was enough to make him feel unnecessary guilt. Imagine that—feeling guilt for something he hadn't even done yet.

 _Not as far as I know, anyway…_

But, every so often, something would happen. And he had to say something. Because as much as he didn't want to be 'that guy', he didn't like seeing people ignorant or suffering either, and that sentiment was always greater than the other.

Now was one of those moments. Kakashi had spent the last ten minutes griping about a certain rising star in Konoha's Torture and Interrogation. Someone who also happened to be Kakashi's therapist, and cared more about the Copy Nin than anyone let on.

Not that said Copy Nin had the sense to notice. Something in him kept him from understanding why anybody would, dare one say it, worry about him.

"To be honest?" Kakashi-senpai laced his fingers together and clasped them behind his head, moseying along through Konoha's gates without so much as a glance toward the chuunin manning the gatehouse. "Not often."

Tenzo, after giving Kotetsu and Izumo a short wave, shot his taichou a glare of chastisement. He hadn't expected an answer quite so… blunt.

But that was Kakashi Hatake, he supposed…

Kakashi caught his silent scold and looked a little offended himself. At least, that's how Tenzo interpreted the ever-so-slight wrinkle at the inside corner of the Copy Nin's visible eye.

"It's not something I do—er, don't do…—It's not intentional." The offense disappeared from the lazy ninja's countenance, and he gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Sometimes, it would be better if it was intentional…" Tenzo released his companion from his glare, and instead directed his attention to the road ahead. The broad road, such a familiar one, that led the way into the depths of the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Home. "At least that would mean you were aware of yourself."

"Hm…" Kakashi's eye grew distant, then, and Tenzo found himself wondering (as he often did) where he went. Sometimes, it seemed like Kakashi wanted to say more, but something kept him from it. That something kept him holed up deep in his mind, a place where nobody else could tread.

Or perhaps Tenzo was just overanalyzing. He did do that now and then.

The pair then continued on in silence for a good few minutes. They shuffled up the dusty street, the later afternoon sun warming their backs and stretching their shadows long ahead of them. The suppertime crowds were out and about, visiting shops and bars, restaurants and street venders, and generally ignoring the two simply-dressed shinobi trudging through their midst after an hour of intensive sparring.

Tenzo watched the people in their to-doings, and a small smile crept onto his face.

He didn't get out much. Not that he could. ANBU was a very demanding job. It didn't allow much for mediocre, domestic trivialities. Sometimes he wished he could break from that shell, even drop out of the Black Ops division, but… he didn't really belong anywhere otherwise.

But he could certainly imagine what it might be like if he did. That could be him, exchanging meaningless but oh-so-happy banter with the friendly-eyed woman behind the flower shop counter, visible through the wide storefront window to the left. Or he could be buying tea and candles for an upcoming event, like the young lady he passed on his right. Or he could've been that laughing child that pushed his way between Tenzo and his captain, chasing after a runaway chicken while feathers flew.

Of course, he wasn't. But he could imagine.

"Ever wondered if you're in the wrong line of work?" Tenzo found himself saying, watching two other girls join in the chase of the unruly fowl as it continued behind them.

"No," was Kakashi's immediate answer, and it was a firm one. Unwavering.

Tenzo glanced at his senpai, and frowned a little. Again, the response was unexpected. And Kakashi seemed to catch his confusion, because the silver-haired man dropped his arms to his sides, and stared ahead with a rare intensity.

"Once you've gone as deep into the system as we have, there's really no getting out." Kakashi's flint-grey eye, harder than usual, turned on Tenzo and made him square his shoulders a little. That gaze was entreating him to something. The Copy Nin's voice dropped low. "You might even leave the Black Ops one day. But Black Ops will never leave you."

He said it with such conviction, that all at once, Tenzo was awed and saddened at the same time. Awed again by the strength of his captain and senior; saddened by the knowledge that Kakashi spoke from deep-rooted experience.

After all, everyone on Team Ro knew the trouble Kakashi gave his psychoanalyst every month. They knew about the legendary shinobi's antisocial behavior, and the way he moved from mission to mission to training to mission again, with little else in between, beyond rereading his trashy books.

Tenzo couldn't imagine Kakashi leaving ANBU even if he tried. Some things just ground their way under your skin, and made themselves home for the rest of your life.

"I don't like when you look at me like that," Kakashi sighed, looking weary and just a bit uncomfortable. Tenzo realized with a jolt that he'd been staring.

"S-Sorry…"

"Meh, you need to stop spacing out like that, Tenzo." The false smile was back, curving Kakashi's eye as if he'd never spoken those weighty words just moments before. "Next time, I won't be here to keep you from running into something."

Tenzo allowed himself to give the man a playfully pointed look. Not too playful, though, or else he would lose the truth of his words. "I don't want to hear that from the guy who reads books while he walks."

The Copy Nin's smirk only widened.

Their steps finally led them to the road that bent around the Hokage tower like a forking river, one which would take the two men in different directions to their respective homes. The older to his shabby little apartment in a group home in the old neighborhood, the younger back to the barracks hidden under the Hokage tower.

Or at least, that was where Tenzo was planning on going. That is until he gave Kakashi a wave and bid him good evening, turned to continue on his way, and spotted a familiar ebony pixie bob amidst the pedestrians, headed his way.

With one last glance over his shoulder—Kakashi had already gone on, headed in the opposite direction—Tenzo went ahead and waved. "Hello, Tsuki!"

The woman—best known as Badger among her ANBU peers—trudged along and barely lifted her head in acknowledgement of his greeting. Her ice-blue eyes were dull, as per usual, and her full lips curled in a disdainful pout, as per usual. She wore her usual out-in-public ensemble: standard issue shinobi slacks, shin wrappings, and sandals, and an under armor shirt covered by a loose grey haori tied shut by a cloth belt, hiding away her figure.

In fact, there was nothing out of the ordinary about her appearance at all—except for the appearance part.

Tsuki Busho rarely came out in public. She claimed it was too much effort, mingling.

So Tenzo understandably gave pause when she halted before passing him by. She stretched out a hand to point toward the Hokage tower, which loomed to Tenzo's left.

"Why does it have to be orange?" she muttered.

He frowned a little, and followed the direction of her index finger. He couldn't see anything orange in that general direction—unless one counted the rich gold of the planks that made up the roofing of the tower.

"Why does _what_ have to be orange?" he inquired, looking back at her.

"That," she reiterated, without much emphasis beyond an insistent shake of her finger. "The thing. The big ugly building. Why must it be orange?" She spoke each and every word in an emotionless drone, as if she didn't want to put more effort than she needed to into carrying on the conversation. But that was just her thing.

Tenzo looked again. Oh, it _was_ the tower! That's what she was talking about. While that revelation cleared a few things up, it brought to focus one rather important detail in the wood user's brain.

"The Hokage tower?" he confirmed, and watched her nod curtly. Then he folded his arms, peering up at the building in question a moment before voicing the aforementioned detail. "I didn't think it _was_ orange. It always looked like red to me."

"Tch," was her response, and dropping her arm, she continued her pitiful little shuffle down the street. "It's orange."

"No, I'm… pretty sure it's red."

He saw the head shake coming before it actually happened, and knew there'd be no convincing her. But… it wasn't orange. It just wasn't. At least, he didn't think it was. It was a rather bright red, though…

"Maybe we can go with a happy medium and say it's red-orange," he offered, catching up to her.

She came to a halt again, and looked up at the tower. Tenzo followed her gaze, and took the moment for himself to appreciate the grandeur of the building that represented everything the Hidden Leaf was. The shinobi village of the Land of Fire, the realm of the Hokage, with the Will of Fire burning in the heart of every ninja who donned the emblem of Konohagakure.

It was enough to make him take a deep breath of the fresh evening air, smell the moisture and summer sun wafting along the slight breeze that whispered through the busy streets.

 _Gosh, I don't do this enough. I really do need to get out more._

"It's orange," she said, and kept walking.

A sigh escaped Tenzo's lips, and broke his attention on the pleasantries around him. He followed suit, mentally noting that she was essentially heading back the way he had just come from with Kakashi, but a little detour wouldn't hurt. He didn't get to spend much time with the other members of Team Ro, besides Kakashi, outside of missions.

And aside from that, he got the feeling Tsuki could use a friend.

 _Maybe…?_

"Can't we agree to disagree?" Tenzo asked, matching paces with her.

She thought a moment, then shook her head, wrinkling her nose. "No."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"To disagree implies discussion of a matter of opinion," she sighed, like the explanation alone was taking a lot out of her. "This is not an opinion. The building is orange, and it is hideous. Case closed."

"So… you're like this all the time, aren't you?" Tenzo eyed her.

She eyed him right back, not bothering to turn her head to do so. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

The wood-user shrugged. "I guess I assumed it was a front you put up when you donned your mask."

Her brow furrowed a little, and she looked away. "I don't like pretenders."

"I see…" He honestly should've seen that coming, but he had wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Every day at the barracks, every mission, she had a cold, calculating aloofness about her—not unlike Kakashi-taichou. The difference came in the naturalness of it. Kakashi was not severe by nature; no, it was a learned trait, one built up as a shield against the horrors of their world, and Tenzo couldn't blame him. He had his own version of it. But every now and then, Kakashi allowed himself to relax, and Tenzo would glimpse a man beneath who was much more amicable. Lazier, but softer.

Tsuki… Granted, Tenzo didn't know her as well. But if he was to judge according to what he was seeing now, her attitude didn't have an off switch.

Either that, or she was just having a really bad day.

"Why are you still following me?" she grumbled, taking another left turn at an intersection. Tenzo followed along, almost absently.

"Well, I don't have anything better to do," he answered honestly. "And I thought maybe you'd like some company."

She actually frowned at that—well… frowned more. "Why?"

"You looked a little lonesome," he replied.

Her steps halted, and he almost walked right past her. When he realized that she'd dropped out of sight, he stopped himself and glanced back at her. She was studying him hard, head tilted ever so slightly, her mouth parted a sliver as she chewed on her lower lip.

He blinked. Why was she so confused? Her confusion was confusing. "What?"

Another beat of silence passed, and then she just shook her head, schooled her features back to neutrality, and continued walking.

"You're so weird," she mumbled under her breath. He heard her, and pretended he didn't.

He was used to it, though.

They continued on in silence—silence that Tenzo thought was quite companionable. He didn't feel the need to keep constant conversation; in fact, he doubted she would've found that pleasant. He didn't pin her as one who enjoyed talking more than she had to, and he could sympathize with that.

"What do you mean… 'lonesome'?" she asked, and she sounded genuinely befuddled.

He looked over at her, and he realized then that she was actually the same height as he was. _Tall woman…_

"Um," he cleared his throat a little. "Just that… you were by yourself. And you didn't look happy."

She didn't say anything to that. Her eyebrows remained low over her long-lashed eyes as she seemed to puzzle through what he'd said. At least, that's what he guessed she was doing. She seemed to do a lot of that—frowning and thinking.

The street they'd turned down was more crowded than the last, and Tenzo realized they'd entered the restaurant sector, if all the scrumptious smells tickling his nose told him anything. He could smell bread baking, noodles steaming, meat frying, all topped with a rich, melting-pot assortment of seasonings—thyme, ginger, soy, and many others.

His stomach started grumbling. _Maybe I should've gone home to dinner…_

A red ball came bouncing under the feet of several passersby, followed by a little white puppy that was bouncing just about as much in its pursuit, its floppy ears flapping like streamers. It yapped in delight, not paying much attention to where it was going.

Tenzo stopped the ball with his foot, and stooped to pick it up. The puppy came skidding to a stop at his feet, staring up with a rather amusing expression on its canine face—half pout, half ponder.

"What're you doing?" Tsuki grumbled beside him, and he noticed she'd stopped as well. Why, he couldn't begin to guess. But at the moment he was going to answer, a youthful voice belted through the crowd.

"Hey, Akamaru!" Following—and belonging to, Tenzo guessed—the voice, came a little boy with a head of scruffy brown hair, sharp eyes with slitted pupils, and a pair of tattoos on his rounded cheeks in the likeness of fangs.

Those markings, plus the puppy, made the deduction not difficult to reach in Tenzo's mind. This boy was very likely an Inuzuka. A very young one.

The puppy responded immediately, tail wagging and tongue lolling from its tiny mouth, and it yapped a few times before looking up at Tenzo with an adorable puppy-pout that only puppies were capable of.

"No, he didn't _steal_ it," said the boy, frowning at his dog. "He just picked it up!"

The puppy barked, a bit more insistent this time, and shot the boy something like a glare. Tenzo couldn't help a small smile. _Definitely an Inuzuka._

"Oh…" The boy flushed a little, glancing up at the adults from under the ridge of his eyebrows, and then he rubbed the back of his neck. He offered an anxious chuckle. "Right, sorry. I'll try to listen better next time."

Tenzo had a very limited knowledge of the Inuzuka clan and how it worked, but he could guess by their ages that these two had not been partners long. He held out the ball to the boy.

"Still getting the hang of understanding him, eh?" he said.

The boy took the proffered ball and nodded. "Yeah… It's harder than I thought. But we're playing catch and we'll have it down soon!" He patted the puppy's head. "I just hafta remember to think like Akamaru, here."

"Well, good luck with that." Tenzo offered a smile, which the boy returned broadly.

"Thanks, mister!" He handed the ball down to Akamaru. "All right, boy, throw it farther this time!" In his hurry to scramble down the street, the boy almost collided with a few passing civilians. "S'cuse me!" And then he was gone, and the puppy wasn't far behind.

"Yeah, good luck," Tsuki snorted. "You're gonna need it."

"What makes you say that?" Tenzo tore his gaze from the crowd to his companion.

"He's brash. And he rushes things. He's probably one of the class clowns at the Academy." She sighed, almost in disappointment at her theory.

"You can't know that for sure," he said.

She shrugged. "I usually can."

Tenzo frowned. If that was her philosophy, it was no wonder she lacked social skills…

"And he's loud," she finished, beginning to walk again. "Just like this street."

He couldn't disagree with that. He wasn't quite sure how to take her comments at this point, so he just caught up with her again and continued walking. They'd only taken a few steps before Tenzo peered down a side street that branched off to his right. There were fewer people along this way, and it led into a more residential area—mostly apartment complexes. Tenzo paused.

"We could go this way," he offered with a gesture of his hand.

Tsuki paused, glancing his way, and then taking in the road he gestured to. She remained quiet for the longest time, and again, he found himself wondering where she'd mentally gone off to.

Was it just something about his team? All the members tended to be spacey now and again?

The woman looked back to him, expression unchanging. "My route doesn't turn here."

Tenzo raised his eyebrows. "…You have a route?"

"Yes."

"And…" He looked between her, the restaurant block, and the residential block. "How often do you take this route of yours?"

"Every day."

 _Every day. Every day, she drags herself out of her apartment and walks around the village… to do what? Complain about things?_

"Have you ever considered trying something different once in a while?" Tenzo asked.

She slowly shook her head. "No…"

He took a deep breath, and then stepped down the side street. "Well, let's go, then."

She didn't follow immediately. Tenzo forced himself not to glance back, and just kept walking. If she didn't follow, he would just round back and head home, like he originally intended. If she did… well, he'd figure that out if it happened.

He heard her sigh, and then footsteps came after his.

"You're so weird…"


	15. Why We Do

**Why We Do**

 **Date Posted: 2/15/16**

 **Word Count: 3801**

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 **A/N: REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **IWouldntStopForARedLight: Hey, thanks so much! I'm very glad you're enjoying it. I love writing Tenzo's POV. X3 He's such a fun character. Actually, they all are... 3 Hope you like this installment as well! God bless!**

 **~Penelope**

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"Suzume… you don't have to keep following me." Kakashi tried to sound as earnest as was possible in his current physical state. His voice still sounded hoarse to his own ears, and it was likely due to all the coughing he'd done in the last week, courtesy of a scrap with pneumonia.

The medics hadn't thought him well enough to leave, either. He'd barely managed to scrape his way out by the skin of his teeth as it was, and that had taken an unholy amount of sweet-talking on his part. Still, he couldn't be happier to be out of that antiseptic cesspool. Fresh air never smelled better.

But if he was honest, he could do without the tagalong.

Right now, he wanted to mosey on back to his apartment, lock the front door, and huddle on his sofa with an electric blanket and a Icha Icha film marathon. Alone.

But Suzume Ochimashita—codename Otter—seemed to have taken it upon himself to play chaperone. Maybe the medics had shanghaied him?

The honey-blond man swallowed a little at having been confronted, and rubbed the back of his neck as was his habit to do when he was nervous. "Right, about that…"

Kakashi sighed. Sometimes, he hated bring right. "Who asked?"

Suzume's eyebrows rose, and he gave an abrupt shake of his head. "Oh, nobody! That's… that's not what I meant. I meant that… well, it's partly my fault all this happened to you. I feel like I aught to do _something_."

"…Ah." How nice. Obligation.

Why? Kakashi never asked for anyone's pity. Mostly because he didn't really want it. What good did pity do him? The most it ever did was needle out a little more frustration at the fact that he was burdening yet another person with his existence. As if he hadn't done that enough already.

But of course, other people seemed to be bound by the socially acceptable more than he was—not that that was some grand surprise. People offered pity as a programmed response to another's pain. Especially if they thought that pain was their fault.

And people entertaining those notions could be notoriously stubborn. So Kakashi couldn't simply tell him 'no thanks, please go home'. He didn't feel like being assertive right now. He doubted his body could handle it.

Instead, he sighed again. "If you must, then."

With that, he exited the gates that marked the way out of the hospital's too-picturesque lawn, onto the open street beyond. The grey, overcast sky dulled his shadow under his feet, and hid the time, though he guessed it to be around noon—a good time to hide away at home and do nothing.

Footsteps behind him let him know the other ANBU was following. Kakashi tried not to think about that too much, and simply began walking in the direction of his home—to the south, on the edges of the old district.

"Sorry if I…" Suzume began, entering Kakashi's peripheral vision on his right. "I-It's just…"

 _Why try to justify himself?_ He really didn't want to hear the emotionally charged reasons why Suzume felt obligated to make sure Kakashi was all right. He would've preferred it if the other man just stayed silent in the first place, but seeing as that wasn't about to happen, Kakashi resorted to the next best thing: tuning him out.

It wasn't that he couldn't appreciate the idea in the underused, out-of-practice emotional part of his mind. He saw the sense in the concept, knew it was human instinct—in good people, at least—to react like this. That didn't mean he knew what to do about it. He didn't like dealing with emotional people. Half the time, reason went right over their heads.

What good did obligatory guilt do anyone? Guilt for no reason, why would anybody take that burden upon themselves?

Kakashi knew that some of those who knew his history thought of him the same way. Tenzo in particular, though he knew no specifics, had unfortunately picked up on the veins of guilt that plagued certain bygone conversations. He was always more observant than he let on. And numerous times, he had tried to convince Kakashi that his blame was needless.

But that was a different case altogether.

Guilt was necessary when it was justified.

But Suzume, he had done precisely what Kakashi asked of him. It had been a choice between Itachi's life and his, and Kakashi had acted fully aware of that. He'd gone out in a desperate attempt to find fresh water in the midst of a blizzard, and made a ridiculous mistake in the process (the result was his latest stint in the hospital, recovering from hypothermia and the previously mentioned pneumonia). When the allotted time had passed, Suzume then acted on his orders, as he should have. There was no reason to blame himself. Why feel guilty?

If only it was so easy for others to understand.

Such was the price of Kakashi's natural disposition—detached and rational. It was so very easy to assume everyone else would be just as reasonably intelligent.

Why weren't they? In the grand scheme of things, people would be so much better off if they stopped getting so personally invested in things that didn't merit the investment. Things like being offended, or social conformity, or emotional risk-taking. He would much rather save his effort for something that he knew mattered in the long run. This was why he served in the ANBU, so long after his mentor and reason for joining was dead and gone.

He would not live for very long. But the village would.

All in all, he wasn't worth Suzume's concern. The other man surely had better things to worry about. Why would he hang around?

"STOP THAT KID!" screeched a masculine voice from behind him. Kakashi's feet came to a halt of their own accord; he hadn't really wanted to stop, but his instinct had jumped at the scream. It bid him to freeze in place, minimizing the chances of a potential threat catching sight of him before he could spot it. Not that there was always a potential threat prowling around every time some random person screamed, but it was something the Copy Nin couldn't really help at this point. Loud noises did that to him.

His gaze skimmed over his companion (Suzume hadn't gotten the hint yet, apparently) as he glanced over his shoulder, toward the ruckus that was coming up the street. He saw now that there were a few more people around. Not many, but enough to let Kakashi know that they must've been passing near one of the restaurant sectors. Why else would there be such a crowd out and about on such a day, unless it was the time during which food became more important than the weather?

Between the wandering pedestrians darted a little blond blur, nothing more than a mop of spiky hair, shorts, and a green lump of something or other atop his head. He weaved and ducked between the legs of a few unfortunate souls, before continuing his beeline toward the two ANBU nins' end of the street.

"Ha ha!" the little boy snickered, and Kakashi saw him wave something in the air over his shoulder, without pausing in his escape. "Catch me if you can, stingy Baka-san!"

Kakashi followed the path with his gaze, down the block, to the pursuer, from whom he assumed the previous shout had come from. A man with startlingly red hair long enough to reach the middle of his back, and furious eyes an even brighter shade of scarlet, pushed his way past a group of chatting chuunin.

Red Uzumaki. Kakashi recognized him from T&I, though he didn't know the man well. Most of what he did know, he had heard from Suzume, usually for at least a week after the monthly evals.

Red ignored the chuunins' shouts of protest in favor of keeping his focus zeroed in on his target: the brat. His gaze met Kakashi's, and the redhead pointed to emphasize that aforementioned target.

"STOP HIM!" he reiterated.

Kakashi let a bit of his instinct loose in order to scan the street for where the blur had gone in the last few moments. It took three seconds to do so.

It only took two for a cat to fly in his face.

Its appearance was startling enough, however less so than the realization that it was a _cat_. Flying. Hissing. Claws.

 _The little brat just threw a cat at me._

Kakashi ducked, low enough that he knew he wouldn't just be trading a face full of cat scratches for a back full instead. The cat sailed over him, and the blond blur sailed past him. The brat wove his way to the end of the street, skidded to pivot on his heel, and finally darted down an alleyway. Suzume stood there, staring, first at Kakashi, then at the blur, then at the enraged counselor approaching.

"What the heck!?" Red blurted, hesitating beside them.

Kakashi straightened up again, and gave the man an unimpressed appraising look. He boasted a Leaf flak jacket—though Kakashi wasn't 'in the know' enough to say whether he was a chuunin or a jounin. The thing he could say with certainty, though, was that that uniform had not seen close combat. The thing was rather immaculate for a ninja vest. He surmised that Red Uzumaki had not seen field action for a good while.

Which might explain how ruffled the man's feathers were over a mere brat.

"What part of 'stop him' did you not get?" Red seemed to be appraising Kakashi in a similar fashion, and though the taller man's lip curled, Kakashi doubted he'd really picked up much. What was there to see?

"Uzumaki-san," Suzume greeted, still a little lost, if the blank expression on his face was anything to go by.

"You're freakin' Black Ops for crying out loud," Red went on, as if his client hadn't spoken at all. "How hard is it to keep a pre-genin from getting past you?"

"I thought you would know," Kakashi replied, brushing some imaginary dust off his own grey jacket, "considering you were chasing after him in the first place."

The counselor's countenance darkened, and he shoved his way past with a stifled snarl. "Whatever. If you'll excuse me, I've got a thief to catch." He started jogging again.

"A thief?" Kakashi raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Suzume, who shrugged before watching Red go.

"What did he steal?" the other ANBU operative called out. Red didn't even bother to glance back when he answered.

"My hitai-ate!"

Kakashi glanced at Suzume again. Suzume glanced back.

The latter reacted first. "You just got out of the hospital, taichou." It wasn't charged with any subtle emotion beyond a hint of uncertain concern, and confusion.

Kakashi shrugged. "That shouldn't be an issue."

Suzume blinked at him. "…Why's that?"

"Because the brat just went down a dead end."

"…Oh."

Kakashi turned on his heel and headed for the alley the pursued and pursuer had vanished into. His apartment still awaited him, with his warm bed and fresh clothes and eggplant and his books. The thought had lost none of its appeal. But he also had a hunch as to who this little blond brat was.

Who else could it be, after all?

He hadn't kept close tabs on Minato's legacy. He didn't care for kids, and he wasn't the nurturing type. Truer still, it was likely better for the boy if he didn't get involved with the infamous Sharingan Kakashi at all—the man that bloodshed seemed to follow like a curse. Kakashi had no plans to change his current choice of career any time soon. ANBU was his life. And it was not one well shared with domestic responsibilities. Though sometimes he wondered if Minato-sensei would've wanted it otherwise…

But Kakashi hadn't forgotten about the brat. Every now and then, the Third would discreetly share something or other about him. Mostly, such news consisted of the young hellion's most recent antics.

Part of his brain always asked why, but that wasn't a hard question to answer. Kakashi had seen how the villagers turned away from him. He experienced much of the same treatment. He was a cold-blooded killer, after all. His reputation often preceded him.

That was another thing his rationality questioned. Why blame a soldier for killing? Wasn't that a part of their job? And didn't they kill so that others—like the villagers; civilians, innocents—didn't have to? So that they would be safe?

That was why Kakashi kept risking his life over and over again. Why he risked another traumatic visit to the hospital after a mission. Why he wore his mask in the first place, and why he would rather see his team return home before he did.

Did Naruto Namikaze—or, Uzumaki—even understand that concept?

He supposed it wasn't his place to know. He hadn't expressed an interest in the boy's grooming, and still didn't. He was entirely Sandaime-sama's responsibility—that, and Iruka Umino's. Though it seemed a begrudging responsibility on the latter's part. Something about Umino's parents perishing in the Nine-Tails Attack, same as Minato-sensei and Kushina.

But could one really blame the boy for something entirely out of his control?

Actually, that was why, now that Kakashi thought about it… because Naruto couldn't control the thing. And that made him a potential threat.

Potential? Did that make him guilty? Why were the two words so often synonymous in peoples' minds? Why did people act and react the way they did? It was all so troublesome.

 _Too much emotion. Not enough logic. Meh._

He realized they'd almost reached the end of the alley. At the wall that blocked off the end, smoke puffed in a small cloud, and suddenly, there was a woman. A woman that made Red choke on nothing, Suzume shriek a little, and Kakashi felt blood rush to his face. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, but that was very hard to unsee.

"You little-!" Red lunged blindly for the woman's arm, ignoring the falsetto gushing, and instead cuffed her hard over the head. More smoke, and Naruto writhed in his clutches instead.

"OW!" the mouthy little squirt yowled, rubbing his head and struggling against the man's hold. "That hurt, ya know!"

"Yeah!" Red glared at the twerp. "It was supposed to. Now give it back, you little runt."

Naruto pursed his lips, and looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Brat! I'll search you if I have to!"

At this, the boy smirked. "I'll use my jutsu again, if you want!"

Red snarled. "You're real sick, you know that? Who taught you all this? What's more, what gives? Why are you going around stealing headbands anyway?"

Kakashi eyed the boy, trying to figure out where Naruto stashed the T&I member's hitai-ate, but it didn't take him long to figure he probably didn't want to know.

"I just wanted to try it on, and you wouldn't let me, you stingy miser!" Naruto grouched.

Kakashi glanced to Suzume. The latter didn't seem interested in stepping in at all, and instead looked quite uncomfortable. He likely had no clue how to deal with the situation. Kakashi didn't either, but Red would reach an impasse soon. There was only so far brute force could go before you started crossing lines that not everyone would be happy with.

"That doesn't mean you steal it!" Red glared daggers at the brat.

Kakashi stepped forward, half of his mind wondering why he should even bother. "Meh, calm down, Red-san," he sighed. "He's just a stupid brat who wants to feel strong, but has no idea what it really means to be a shinobi."

"EH?" Naruto reacted with a loud mix of anger and confusion, both emotions raw and genuine on his round little face. "Hey old man, what gives!?"

 _Old man..?_ Kakashi's Sharingan eye twitched, but he let it go. "You heard me. If you really knew what it meant to be a ninja, you wouldn't be stealing headbands from other ninja in the first place."

Red looked rather pleased with the back-up, while Naruto seemed at a loss for words.

Seeing as the child had yet to comprehend Kakashi's point, the Copy Nin sighed and went on. "These hitai-ate symbolize our status as shinobi of the Leaf. They're our standard, our way of demonstrating our pride in our village, and our oath to protect it. Stealing one of these is tantamount to stealing a part of our identity."

Naruto stared at him long and hard, and finally tilted his head. "What is tan… tanta…?"

Kakashi sighed again.

"It means, stealing is rude, and it's wrong, and it makes you less of a ninja and more of a bug." With a simple surge of chakra, Kakashi used the flicker technique to move from his place on the pavement, to the spot just behind the boy, between him and the wall. He then leaned forward to whisper in the kid's ear. "And obnoxious bugs get squashed."

He could practically see the shiver that ran up Naruto's spine, the sweat that broke out on the child's brow along with a shrill squeal from his throat.

Kakashi stood back again, and sighed. Why was he sighing so much? He'd get light-headed at this rate. Come to think of it…

"We shinobi don our hitai-ate every day to keep brats like you safe," Kakashi finished. "We secure your comfort by making ourselves uncomfortable. The least you could do is return the favor and be a little more respectful. You could start by giving the man back his headband."

In a harried rush, Naruto lifted the tail of his shirt and, as Kakashi expected, removed the headband from where he'd tucked it in his waistband at his hip. He practically shoved it into Red's waiting hands.

"There, you've got it back! Lemme go!" the boy whined, but the redhead had already let go. Naruto needed no more incentive, and broke away at a dash, toward the mouth of the alley. He barreled past an awkwardly anxious Suzume, who hurried to step out of his path and watch him go.

At the alley's entrance, Naruto paused and glanced back. "I'll be a real shinobi one day, just you wait! I'll be Hokage, and I'll have you all thrown in jail for being so creepy! Believe it!" That said, the brat sprinted off.

And that was that. Kakashi finally allowed his hand to come up to rub his forehead, which had begun to throb. He hadn't done that much; just walk, and talk. Stupid, frail human bodies…

"For the record, I just painted ninjas up to be strong, noble individuals who have the strength and will to protect this village." He cast the redhead to his left a dry look. "And yet you're the ninja he somehow managed to steal the hitai-ate from."

"Hey, I was eating!" Red blurted, scowling. "I didn't expect him to snatch it right off my head!"

"Obviously."

It took a quiet, seething breath and a short pause before Red attempted to speak again. When he did, his eyes were still sharp with offense, but he'd thankfully lowered his voice.

"Thanks… for that," Red said, begrudgingly amicable now that his problem had at least been solved. "It wouldn't have been a problem, except… For some reason, kids don't find me very intimidating…"

"When in doubt, creep them out," Kakashi grumbled, mind already drifting back to his waiting apartment. Maybe he had some leftover miso soup in the freezer; that'd be nice…

"Uh…" Suzume watched Kakashi closely, seemed to hesitate a number of times in a short second, before stepping forward toward them. "Excuse us, Uzumaki-san. The captain needs to get home. He's had a long day, I think…"

Red, bless him for a brief moment of perception, made no move to hinder them. He nodded, almost understandingly, and stepped aside. "Sure thing."

While he busied himself with tying his hitai-ate back around his head, Kakashi followed Suzume's lead and headed out of the alley. Ah, home sounded so nice right now…

Except…

There was still that problem.

"You don't have to follow me all the way there," Kakashi muttered, squinting at the light that filtered through the cloud cover, suddenly far too bright as they continued on their way.

"I guess not…" Suzume twiddle his thumbs, avoiding eye contact. Kakashi wondered how he managed not to run into things, always staring at his feet like that.

"But if you'll allow me, taichou," he continued, straightening up ever-so-slightly. The change in stance was a rare one, but Kakashi knew what it meant. Suzume did that when he received a mission. "I'd like to escort you home, if only to see you safely there. To be sure you're all right."

He seemed to be trying very hard to keep the soldier facade up, Kakashi could see. It was almost comical. Suzume was the least assertive person the Copy Ninja knew, so to see him try to be so made him want to snigger.

Instead, his headache intensified and his curiosity governed the next phrase to slip off his tongue. "Why?"

At this, Suzume's eyebrows rose, and his facade broke. He went back to fiddling with his own fingers, shuffling along down the street at Kakashi's side. "Uh… Well, because you're my captain. Does there have to be another reason?"

Kakashi stared.

 _Just… because?_

Suzume coughed a little. "It's like you were telling that kid… except when we put on the masks, we're not just Leaf shinobi. We're ANBU. We're Team Ro. And you're our captain. And that sentiment stays the same even after we take the masks off again…"

There were crossed wires somewhere in Kakashi's brain, or something. Whatever the reason, his mind refused to fathom the sense in what Suzume was telling him.

He—and all of Team Ro, if Suzume's words were to be taken seriously—would go out of their way for him just because he was their captain?

Yes, he preached teamwork almost religiously.

Yes, he valued his team more than was likely appropriate for an ANBU.

But that was on the field. That was in high-pressure situations, matters of life or death. That was where his conviction was, thanks to an obnoxious Uchiha brat from years long past.

Why would it apply even on a domestic level, when they had nothing to gain from it?

 _Just… because they are? Because I am? Because it does?_


	16. Weight On Our Shoulders

**Weight On Out Shoulders**

 **Date Posted: 2/24/16**

 **Word Count: 2299**

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay! It was a weird week... but this one's done, and there should be another come Saturday. Can't make any promises, though...**

 **Anyway, enjoy this installment!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

Sand tasted like dust, stifling heat, and the crystallized tears of little children. And Itachi had officially decided that it was a miserable taste. Just like Sunagakure was a miserable place. And the Fourth Kazekage was a miserable man.

If they never had another mission in Suna, Itachi would be perfectly fine. He'd never known a place that could make one so, well, miserable.

And the misery had infected the rest of the convoy, particularly after the mission had failed.

Oh, the escorting part had gone well. Saindaime-sama had returned safe and sound, thanks to the ANBU present (not that the old veteran couldn't have held his own). The Fourth Kazekage had let them enter and exit the border without trouble, and only a handful of his Suna nin had taken it upon themselves to violate that, spouting some nonsense about Suna's dignity and Leaf scum.

No, it was the result of the whole thing that really weighed down everyone present. The peace talks had failed. Saindaime-sama hadn't been able to convince the Kazekage that the Leaf wanted no more conflict. The incriminating factor was that, outside of Konoha's influence, the feudal lord of the Land of Wind had been outsourcing missions to Leaf shinobi instead of utilizing his own ninja village. That alone made talking peace almost impossible.

But it wasn't like the Leaf had bribed the feudal lord or anything. If nothing else, the Suna ninja could all take it as a sign that they needed to step up their game.

Itachi felt cruel thinking that, but there it was.

Whatever the case, it led to him and the rest of the Hokage's convoy trudging up to the great green gates that waited to welcome them back home. Itachi was part of the rear guard, and would be one of the last to enter, along with the two other members of Team Ro present: Kakashi-taichou, and Tenzo-san. There were a few other members around, but they were a distance away, in the outer guard, or the advance team up front.

"I still have sand in my hair," Tenzo murmured from behind his mask, scratching at his scalp. "I'm going to be itching for weeks."

"I don't know about the two of you," said Kakashi-taichou, "but I'm looking forward to a nice, hot shower and bed. I plan on taking my day off and sleeping it away."

"Hear, hear."

"I'm looking forward to my mother's food," Itachi contributed, offering the older two a smile, despite still wearing his own mask. "I don't mind food pills, but they don't begin to compare to home cooking. Pork chops and curry rice, string beans fried in garlic… Oh, and dumplings!"

Tenzo made a quiet whining noise in the back of his throat. "Don't go making me hungry now, Weasel."

Kakashi's stomach chimed in its own grumble of a complaint, making the other two fix their eyes on their captain. Itachi swore he could see the silver-haired man blush through the mask, and Itachi and Tenzo both laughed. It was a good laugh, especially after all the silence they'd endured as the Hokage's escorts.

"Hungry, senpai?" Tenzo said through his snickering, and earned himself a hard shove from the Hatake in question.

The gates loomed before them. The rest of the convoy had disappeared into the village, leaving Saindaime-sama and a select few operatives to escort him back to the Tower. Itachi was almost too busy watching his companions, however, to spot the small figure waiting close beside one of the giant doors.

"Nii-san!"

Itachi jerked his gaze toward the sound, his heart jumping in his chest. Lingering instincts had him nearly reaching for a kunai. But his eyes had already taken in the presence of his little brother, and his mind took mere seconds to catch up, and cut off the fight-or-flight response.

It took only those mere seconds for Sasuke to launch himself at Itachi, and latch around his waist.

"Oof!" Itachi staggered, but didn't fall, thanks to a large hand on his shoulder—Kakashi-taichou. A subtle glance revealed that he and Tenzo had paused, hesitating to continue on into the village without him.

And as much as Itachi was glad to see his brother, he couldn't help but mentally balk at the timing. He and the others were tired, filthy, hungry, and still in ANBU uniform.

"How did you know it was me?" Itachi said to Sasuke, though the question was far from serious. Itachi already knew the answer.

"Silly, you're wearing an Uchiha shirt!" said the 5-year-old with a beaming grin. "And I can just tell it's you."

Itachi sighed, but Sasuke wasn't done.

"And that's Kakashi Hatake!" said the boy with a dramatic point toward Itachi's Copy Nin companion.

Itachi allowed himself an amused smile at the way the captain stiffened under a mere child's scrutiny. "How can you tell that?"

"Nobody other shinobi has white hair like that."

"What about Jiraiya-sama?" Itachi offered wryly, removing his mask. It was rather redundant anyway. Sure, it was a slight breach in protocol, but nobody was around to see. Everyone was at home, eating supper and closing the curtains for the evening.

Sasuke wrinkled his nose. He reached for Itachi's mask as he replied, only for the older Uchiha to hold the bit of porcelain just out of reach. "He doesn't come around the village anymore… and doesn't he have a bushy ponytail?"

Itachi eyed his captain with a small smirk. "Maybe he got a haircut."

"Nah. That's Sharingan Kakashi."

Finally, Itachi gave a false long-suffering sigh. "You've been discovered, taichou. Did you really think anonymity would last with such an iconic appearance?"

Kakashi responded with a weary sigh of his own. "Funny…"

"How about him, Sasuke?" Itachi pointed to Tenzo, who jerked upon realizing he'd been called out.

Sasuke eyed the third ANBU with great focus for a long moment, before he shrugged. He still had yet to release Itachi's waist. "I dunno! Never seen him before."

Tenzo withered, and Kakashi laughed.

Itachi allowed himself a chuckle, and ruffled Sasuke's hair. "Thanks for waiting for me, but I have to go debrief and put all my gear away so I can come home."

The child's eyebrows scrunched down low, and his grip didn't loosen. Instead, it tightened. Itachi stifled a cough of discomfort.

"No!" Sasuke blurted, childish anger tainting his words. "You said you'd train with me when you got back, and you're two days late!"

Did he say that? Itachi thought back. He must've, or else Sasuke wouldn't have said so. And they were all behind schedule…

"Okay," Itachi said, "I'll change as fast as I can and then we can play."

"Nooooo!" Sasuke whined. " _Training!_ Now. I waited all day, and we need to train out here."

"Out here?" Itachi glanced around, at the woods that surrounded them and the village—the real guardians of the Leaf, that cast their massive shadows away from the sun as it set lower and lower in the sky. "Why out here?"

"There's more places to hide."

Itachi pretended to think long and hard about it. He didn't really want to delay getting home any more than he had to. His bones ached at this point, and that wasn't normal for an 11-year-old. And fairly soon, his stomach would follow suit of his captain's and begin loudly objecting to its deprivation.

But…

"All right, Sasuke." Itachi offered the boy a smile. "I'll play now… if you can convince my comrades here to join us."

He could feel the tension from Kakashi and Tenzo spike, along with a muttered 'what?' from the latter. Sasuke whirled, finally letting his brother go, to zero in his gaze on the two older teens. Sasuke's dark eyes got big, and his cherubic face broke out in a grin that could melt glaciers, and Itachi knew this wouldn't take long.

45 minutes later, Itachi was almost feeling sorry for his little brother. He almost regretted getting Kakashi and Tenzo involved, almost wanted to forget this whole ridiculous idea.

But only almost.

He couldn't fully regret it while he was too busy trying not to laugh. If he laughed, Sasuke would find them for sure. And Kakashi-taichou, crouched beside him on the tree branch, was in the same boat.

The tree boughs overhead absorbed their choked giggles, and the wind carried them away from the pair searching for them down below.

"Tenzo was trying to go easy on him, I'm sure," Itachi hissed through his laughter. "But we had better not let any of the others know, or he'll never hear the end of it."

"I feel worse for your brother," said the captain, mirth squinting his visible eye. "I think he forgot he was daring three ANBU operatives to a game of hide and seek."

They were stifling their presence to keep from being found by Sasuke, something Tenzo had failed to do—whether that was on purpose or not, Itachi guessed the former. Tenzo was a kind soul, and likely wouldn't dream of using an advanced masking technique against an inexperienced child.

But that said nothing of Kakashi and Itachi, who went right ahead and did it. And they found it hilarious, watching the other two wander in circles, wondering where on earth they'd gone. Tenzo had begun to muse out loud that perhaps they'd even ditched them and returned to the village, to which Sasuke vehemently objected.

"My brother's a lot of things," said the boy. "An Uchiha, an ANBU, the best big brother ever… but he's not a cheater. He doesn't cheat! He wants me to find him. I just have to try harder."

Itachi didn't know if Tenzo really couldn't sense them—their 'non-presence' as it were—but the wood-user certainly hadn't anticipated that response, judging by his wide-eyed expression.

"Your brother thinks very highly of you," muttered Kakashi-taichou, drawing Itachi's attention away from Tenzo.

Itachi nodded slowly. "He does… He shouldn't, but he does."

"Why shouldn't he?" Kakashi, having removed his Wolf mask half an hour ago, leveled his visible eye at him.

Itachi watched his little brother diligently check behind each and every tree around him, find nothing, and then move on to the next bunch, with a weary Tenzo trailing behind him.

"I'm not a superhero," said the elder Uchiha brother, soberly. "He treats me like one… It makes it hard to disappoint him, which I know I'll do one day or another."

Kakashi raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Itachi took the opportunity to continue.

"They call me a prodigy, but that doesn't make me anything special. So I learn faster. Big deal." Itachi sighed. "I'm still just a shinobi… just one shinobi. I'd rather have it that way, anyway. I'd rather think I'm one part of a whole, than some singular force of nature, standing alone, above everyone else. Because that just sounds… lonely."

A weighty silence descended over them, and Itachi let it fall. He continued to watch his brother, watch Sasuke's frustration mount as no amount of searching turned up the two ninjas he sought.

"You're 11 years old," Kakashi finally said, his words quiet and serious. "Not even a teenager yet. You're not supposed to be saying things that many adults don't even think about."

"Better to think of it now than when it's too late." Itachi offered his captain the slightest of smiles. "I'd rather grow up fast, than live to bring ruin onto myself and those around me."

Kakashi eyed him. "You take more responsibility for yourself and your actions than most people do in a lifetime. Why?"

"Why?" Itachi gave pause. He'd never actually thought about the 'why' of it all. The way he viewed the world was something that simply _was_. It was a state of existence, something that had always been that way. Why did he see it that way?

"I don't like seeing people get hurt," he answered, still working out the right words in his mind. "I don't care who they are."

Kakashi let slip a harsh, humorless laugh. "If that's true, I think you're in the wrong line of work."

"AHA!"

Itachi glanced down at the base of the tree where the voice had come from. Sasuke stood there, one hand on his hip and the other issuing a dramatic point in their direction. "Found you!"

Kakashi sighed. "About time."

"Good job, Sasuke," said Itachi with a smile. "You're getting better."

Sasuke beamed, and even snickered a little.

Itachi and Kakashi shared a knowing look, and the former raised his hand in a release sign. "But you still have a ways to go." The clone vanished in a puff of smoke.

The clone's memories rushed to Itachi's mind as hot water streamed from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, washing away dirt and dust and sand and grime. With them came a dose of healthy guilt, enough to make his ears heat up despite the heat already surrounding him.

Some big brother he was, ditching his sibling like that. Trading out with a clone when the boy wasn't looking. But it turned out all right in the end. Sasuke got to play, and Itachi got what he desperately wanted. It was a win-win… right?

 _I'm sorry, little brother,_ he thought to the locker room ceiling, as if the sentiment could reach Sasuke from the bowels of the ANBU base, _but I really needed a shower._

"So," called Kakashi-taichou's voice from the next shower over. "What was all that crap about responsibility and disappointing your brother?"

Itachi withered, bumping his forehead against the damp shower wall. "I know…"


	17. One for All, All for One

**One for All, All for One**

 **Date Posted: 3/16/16**

 **Word Count: 2138**

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 **A/N: Review responses!**

 **Guest: Hey, thanks! :D I really like to hear that. And Itachi is such a blast to write. He's so sweet... :3**

 **I hope y'all enjoy this installment! Introductory chapters are over. Now we can get to the fun stuff.**

 **~Penelope**

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"That was the most bogus mission I've ever been on," said Hokamaru Hyuga—Lizard. A chorus of unenthused agreement rose from around the table, though it really didn't come from every member. Just the loud ones. Tenzo, sitting in his place at Kakashi's right hand, sighed and wondered why they were all still whining about this.

Yes, the mission hadn't been the best. But it was over. Let it die.

"You'd think somebody somewhere would've been able to catch that and save us all that trouble!" Hana Yaseino—Frog—leaned his wiry elbows on the tabletop and braced his chin on his hand. His youthful face warped into a pout.

"You're just put off because you had to play Sandaime-sama," droned Tsuki Busho—Badger—from her corner, where she was picking at her plate of food without interest.

Hana scowled. "We're freakin' ANBU! Those dorky assignments are for chuunin. We're supposed to be taking missions that not even the elite jounin can do."

"So you're just upset because this mission reminded you that you're just another ninja serving the village," said Itachi—Weasel—from where he sat, just to Kakashi's left. The youngest member of Team Ro had the slightest of smirks on his face, even as he brought his chopsticks to his mouth to deliver a bite of sushi.

"Shut up, marmot!" Hana snapped.

Itachi's eyebrows twitched into a confused frown. "Marmot…?"

"That's not the same thing as a weasel," Hokamaru offered not-so-kindly, jabbing his chopsticks toward his friend.

Hana just clenched his fists, vein bulging in his forehead before he turned on the Hyuga. "Yeah, well, nobody asked you!"

"Calm down, all of you," sighed Mo Akarui—Panther. He was already half finished with his moderate portion of food, and seemed content to take his time. "You may not have liked it, but it's over and done with. Complaining about it isn't going to change anything."

 _Thank you!_ Tenzo inwardly sighed. He could always trust Mo to be the voice of reason when the others wouldn't listen to Itachi or Tenzo himself.

He had his own complaints about the mission, of course. You couldn't be assigned to expect and intercept highly-trained and deadly Mist shinobi out to assassinate the Hokage, only to find that your opponents must've been outcasts in their own village thanks to how utterly mediocre they were, and not be grossly disappointed. But you didn't hear him complaining out loud. It wasn't professional.

"What did you think, taichou?" Hokamaru asked, gesturing across the table with his chopsticks. "You must have an opinion."

Kakashi—Wolf—snorted behind his mask. He'd somehow managed to finish all of his food in a matter of seconds, and Tenzo hadn't even seen him remove his mask. Nobody had, apparently, because others were noticing his empty plate as well. "I always have opinions. That doesn't mean I voice them all the time."

"Why not?" Hokamaru said.

The team captain gave a one-armed shrug. "I'm not an idiot, Hyuga."

Tenzo snickered, and Itachi, Mo, and Suzume—Otter—joined him. Meanwhile, Hana had an outburst in the making.

"How the h***, taichou!?" he blurted, jabbing a finger toward the head of the table. "What the heck do you do!? You had a whole plate of food just a minute ago and now it's practically licked clean!"

"You're telling me you've never seen him do that?" Hokamaru laughed. "You're such a ditz."

"Shut up!"

"Magic, Yaseino," Kakashi replied, a slight curve in his eye that made his mischievousness clear. "I'm just that talented."

"Narcissist!"

"Do you use big words like that just to sound smart?" Hokamaru poked the smaller boy in the side of the head, and almost got smacked for it.

"I swear, I'll lay you flat, right here, right now!" snarled Hana, and both the Hyuga and Kakashi-senpai guffawed in response.

"I didn't know you swung that way, Hana," Hokamaru jeered before he cackled, apparently unable to resist. "Sorry, but you're really not my type."

Hana bellowed and swung his fist, but Itachi, who was sitting on his other side, managed to latch onto his elbow before the punch could follow through.

"Ah, remember last time you two got in a fight in a restaurant!" the Uchiha spoke up, loud enough for both to hear.

"We got banned from eating there ever again," Tenzo reminded them, recalling that incident quite clearly. Especially since he'd had to help rebuild that building later… He really liked that restaurant too. It was a shame that the whole team had to be punished for the actions of two of its members.

Reluctantly, Hana lowered his arm, casting the team's youngest member a dark look in the process. A collective sigh of relief went up around the table.

Itachi eyed both him and the Hyuga who'd provoked the attempted assault, and after a short moment, his gaze fell to the place in front of the latter. "Hokamaru, aren't you hungry?"

The Hyuga glanced down, made a face at his virtually untouched food, and finally shrugged. "Nah, not really. I had a big lunch."

"Can't go jeopardizing that girlish figure…" Hana muttered.

"Aw, come on, don't be jealous." Hokamaru slung his arm over the younger ninja's shoulders with a broad smirk.

"Get the freakin' h*** off of me!" was accompanied by a violent shrug, which of course prompted Hokamaru to move away, if only for his own safety.

Every team outing was like this. Hokamaru and Hana worked to keep things interesting, usually dancing on the line between banter and just plain rude. Everyone else had either learned to ignore them, or were constantly trying to keep them civil toward each other and the rest of them. Which might as well have been a full time job in and of itself. Tenzo couldn't bring himself to just let most of the conflict go.

That, unfortunately, usually ended in him feeling like he'd just been run over by one of Jiraiya-sama's toad summons and left to eat his own words simply because nobody else wanted to hear them was never a pleasant experience. But for whatever reason, he kept doing it.

"Maybe you should stop touching him, Hokamaru," Tenzo spoke up, despite himself. "Then we might not have problems."

"Ah yes, so the Scout has spoken!" Hokamaru snickered. "Lighten up, twig-brain. I don't mean anything by it, and he knows that better than you do. I'm teasing, he's teasing, we're all teasing."

"You tease too much," Tenzo deadpanned, not empathizing with the construed line of logic.

"That's a matter of opinion," the Hyuga waved him off.

"Have you asked his opinion?"

"Just shut it, Tenzo," Hana growled, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. "I didn't ask for your help, and I don't need _you_ to mother me. He may be an a**, but you're just as bad for different reasons. What's worse is I'm older than you. Who said I need you to defend me, huh?"

And there it was. Tenzo stomped down the flare of hurt that always came with this part, and tried to let it out with a weary sigh. He embraced the irritation instead, since that was easier to deal with, and didn't last as long.

"No need to be snippety about it," he pointed out, avoiding eye contact for the moment. He didn't want to see their pointed glances.

"Geez," Hokamaru huffed.

"Dude, who even says that anymore?" Hana waved his hand in a vague direction.

"Don't take things so personally," said Kakashi-sempai. His slate-grey eye leveled a lazy stare from Tenzo to Hana to Hokamaru and back again. "All of you."

And with that, everyone went back to the casual conversations from before. _Because what taichou says, goes._ And that was that.

The conversations from before went something like this: Hokamaru and Hana continued their bickering, only quieter and less violent. Tsuki ate her food in peace and then discreetly ordered seconds. Suzume awkwarded over in his corner, watching the bickering with a silent apprehension. Itachi mostly observed, and pitched in short comments in multiple conversations here and there. Kakashi did the same, and sometimes that led the two prodigies into their own private conversation. Mo tended to keep to himself, though Tenzo often wondered how much of that was a natural preference versus a learned trait. And Tenzo… well, he did the same. Mostly, it was because he had no idea where he fit in.

On missions—even bogus ones—at least he knew where to be. He knew what to say (or what not to), who to talk to, how to act, where he stood.

This environment? He felt completely lost.

"Don't worry," said Mo from Tenzo's right, startling him out of his reverie. Tenzo stifled the instinct to jump, and peered up at the ANBU veteran, blinking owlishly.

"Uh… huh?" Tenzo raised his eyebrows.

Mo offered him a smile. "They're all just as lost as you. They just express it differently."

Tenzo's eyebrows raised even higher. How-?

"And you being honest with our shortcomings—individually, or as a group—makes them look bad. So that just makes things worse."

Tenzo wilted. "Oh…"

At his new, deflated posture, Mo looked a little startled, and then laughed. "No, no… I just mean that in a way, it means you're impacting them. Their reaction is bad… Their attitudes stink. But at least it means they've heard you. Even if they don't like it."

Tenzo frowned. "Uh… I don't know if that's a good thing…"

"Maybe not," Mo shrugged, "but it should at least make you feel a little more at ease. It's not all on you. We're a team."

Tenzo let his gaze rove over the rest of the ninja seated at the table. They all looked so casual… yet not. There was an underlying discomfort. None of them were really at home in this setting. They didn't know how to be domestic. They had no experience with the normalcies of life, and one could feel it, a nagging feeling just watching them all. It was off. It wasn't natural.

"But that just makes it more complicated," he said quietly to the older ANBU. "We're a team, but we're individuals. We all bring something to the group that the others don't have… and it's hard to make it all fit together."

Mo hummed, and followed Tenzo's gaze to the rest of the team around them. "Then don't."

Tenzo jerked his gaze to the other man. "What?"

"Don't make it all fit." Violet eyes soft and warm, Mo smiled fondly at those teammates—those frustratingly human teammates. "What fits will fit. What doesn't…" Mo gave a quick wink. "Just adds character." He nodded across the table, and Tenzo followed the gesture to spot Hana knocking Hokamaru's elbow out from under him, nearly making him faceplant his food. That resulted in the Hyuga flicking a spoonful of cabbage toward the Yaseino. Itachi and Kakashi-sempai spoke up before a full out food war could blossom.

Mo laughed, and Tenzo allowed himself to as well.

The elite team that answered directly to the Hokage. The Leaf's first and last line of defense. Konohagakure's strongest. That was what they were.

They were also people. Childish, lazy, obnoxious, misunderstanding people. Funny, how those two concepts could both somehow be true.

"Well, I'm done," said Hokamaru with a stretch of his arms toward the ceiling. Beside him, Hana was still trying to pick the pieces of cabbage from his shirt.

"Somebody pick up the tab." Hokamaru stepped out of the booth. "Nature calls."

"Tenzo's got the tab," said Hana, far too quickly.

Tenzo frowned. "I got it last time!"

"That's because you're so good at it, kohai," smirked Kakashi.

"And because you all guilt trip him into it," droned Tsuki.

"We should stick to where our talents lie," Kakashi offered with as much faux sagely-ness as he could muster, "eh, Suzume?"

Suzume coughed and sputtered. "U-Uh, don't drag me into this…"

"You're like a boned fish," Tsuki muttered.

The conversation drifted further from rationality, and Tenzo listened to it happen with a weary sort of familiarity. This was how it always went… but that probably wasn't going to change any time soon. They all worked seamlessly together so well… sometimes. Other times… well, they were all different people. Each member effected the next in one way or another, all different, all special.

 _Special makes it sound like a positive thing…_

"All right, fine!" he said. "I'll pay the stupid tab."

A chorus of gratitude surrounded him, and Kakashi-sempai patted his shoulder—rather patronizingly, but there wasn't much Tenzo could do about that.

"What would we do without you, Tenzo?" said the captain with a squint of his eye.

Sometimes, that was just enough.


	18. My Crush, Kakashi: Beauty Spot

**My Crush, Kakashi: Beauty Spot**

 **Date Posted: 3/21/16**

 **Word Count: 2780**

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 **A/N: This is the first in an arc that I'm calling 'My Crush, Kakashi'. It's not as bad as it sounds, I promise. XP I will be breaking the arc up with another one, so pay attention to titles!**

 **Without further ado, enjoy this next installment, and I'd love to hear what you think in a review. :)**

 **~Penelope**

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He listened.

Twenty paces northeast, a trickle of wind weaved through the trees, brushing the leaves and making them hiss. The sound almost matched the hum and tone of the rush of a nearby river that flowed from their 07:00, from behind and to their left, miles ahead where it drifted from earshot somewhere at least a league to the north - further into the heart of the Land of Waterfalls. Despite the living sounds of nature, no fauna accompanied them. No birds. No squirrels. No deer. Not even the hush of a gleaming serpent along the lush forest floor.

The animals sensed predators, and thus hid themselves.

"Just another few miles," he said to his companion, turning back around and slinging his bloodied kunai into a cluster of shivering aspens to the west. It was a marker, he knew, a sign of their current whereabouts, but carrying it along would only make it easier than it already was to track them by scent. "Then we'll stop for a bit. Can you make it?"

The companion in question clutched a hand to his ribcage, where a gaping slash in his flak jacket shed light on a bone-deep gash that ran along a wiry ribcage, oozing a steady stream of warm, glistening red. The shinobi managed to remain upright, however, and gave a stern nod in affirmative.

"'Course I can make it," said Frog's young, masculine voice with a hint of displeasure that didn't root in the pain. "Don't treat me like a child."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Kakashi glanced back in the direction from whence they came. "A child would've died back there."

"Let's just move, taichou."

"Right."

Off they went again, at the same breakneck pace as before. They could risk no lengthy standstill until they were safely back behind their own borders in the Land of Fire. This mission had been a delicate one, and a few hyper vigilant shinobi from the Village Hidden in the Waterfall had managed to see through their pretty words of delegation and caught them infiltrating the village archives. They'd been assigned to retrieve two scrolls - one belonging to a Leaf ninja suspected to have been taken out during a mission that took him near the border, containing sensitive information that not even Kakashi had the security clearance to access. The other target scroll had to contain details about the Waterfall's legendary Hero Water. This had led to the infiltration of the village leader's own residence.

That had been the easy part.

The hard part had been discreetly disposing of three Waterfall ninja in a way that wouldn't implicate the Leaf in any way whatsoever. Faking a landslide had been ultimately decided upon as the best choice of action. With such moist soil and steep inclines at every turn, it was a natural disaster that occurred often in the Land of Waterfalls, and suited their purposes quite well.

In the melee, however, they had lost the second scroll, and the price had been Frog's physical stability thanks to taking a kunai to the side.

"Think we handled them?" asked the other ANBU, coming to a halt at long last.

Kakashi stopped alight a broad oak limb, once again glancing behind them at the miles they'd managed to cover in just five minutes. Such was the advantage to being a shinobi. Time was that much slower.

"I hope so," he muttered, before turning to the younger ninja. "You should drop the henge. You need that extra chakra to stabilize."

Frog heaved a sigh, only to be remember with a grimace, the gaping wound the Waterfall nin had inflicted. With a laceration like that, it was a wonder they'd made it this far without stopping. Without further objection and with a puff of smoke, the ANBU's henge deactivated, leaving a ninja of slighter build in its wake.

The effort, however, brought her to her knees. Kakashi caught her before she fell on her face.

"What did I tell you?" He raised her back to her feet and held her up with a hand on her shoulder.

"You think I don't get it?" Though the voice behind the mask was now feminine and appropriately mezzo-soprano, the brusque quality and characteristic 'grouch' was still entirely Frog's. "Just give me the freakin' food pills."

He took one more moment to glance to and fro, to stretch out his senses to be sure of no other presences. Then and only then did he allow himself to sit down on the branch's rough surface. As soon as he did so, the fatigue took the opportunity to settle in his bones. His own sigh escaped him.

Frog took a seat with a bit more trouble than Kakashi, and he could virtually hear every cringe she made from behind her mask. That wound was serious. There was a chance it had punctured a lung - that meant it would be slow going from here on out, or else risk the organ collapsing.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, retrieving the small ration box of food pills from his pouch. He held out two of the ugly brown tablets in his gloved palm.

She raised her clean hand to remove her white and green mask, revealing a rounded face framed by her usual short-cropped chestnut hair. Once that hand was free, she was able to snatch the pills from his grasp. One disappeared in a single gulp. "Do what?"

"The henge. Seems to me like it takes an awful lot of effort that could be used elsewhere."

Her mouth quirked at the corner, animate green eyes regaining a small spark for a singular moment before it vanished back to a glossy, blood-loss induced haze. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Kind of why I asked." Settling back against the tree's welcoming trunk, he reached up to his own face. He first removed his well-worn Wolf mask, letting the strap hang about his neck for the moment. As he raised his hand a second time, his fingers twitched before coming to rest on the hem of the mask which he so rarely took off.

Even now, for reasons fogged by time and trauma, he hesitated to let the world around him see him as he truly was.

But now was not the time for petty habits. He could feel the exhaustion creeping through his body, making its way to his mind. His chakra reserves were low, thanks to the battle with the Taki ninja and an eye that took a constant feed from his energy stores every time it was opened. Besides that, they'd been on constant move for the last three days. Normally, this wasn't so hard, but they'd been roughed up well enough that what was usually easy felt like dredging through mud. He needed the energy that the food pills would provide.

What was more, he'd only just inquired of her reasoning behind keeping up a transformation jutsu that disguised her gender. To squirm at the idea of showing his face - to her, another member of Team Ro - seemed hypocritical somehow.

But it would be the first time she, as one of the younger members, would see it.

He pulled the fabric off his face, and focused on the food pill as he dropped it onto his tongue. The familiar bitter, grainy texture assaulted his senses, invading his olfactory nerve with the overwhelming scent of herbs, minerals, and oils that all blended together to create one unpleasant, earthy explosion of taste.

In the effort it took to swallow the darn thing, he almost missed when Frog sucked in a short breath, only to send herself into a hacking fit.

Kakashi glanced sidelong at her, watching while she managed to further hurt herself. The coughing doubtless aggravated her wound and she wound up grimacing through the fit, clutching at her side even after she'd gotten a hold of herself. She took several even breaths afterward, eyes closed, likely to concentrate on regaining the oxygen she'd lost.

"Swallow it wrong?" he inquired.

She gave a curt nod, a light blush invading her face. "Something like that…"

"We should get that stitched up while we can." He eyed the wound, how the bloodstain inched wider with every passing moment, and shifted in his position. He tucked his ankles under himself, sitting cross-legged so he could lean forward. "Come here."

Her cheeks flared more, and instead of following his casual order, she scooted further away. "I can handle it!"

He arched an eyebrow, but relaxed back against the tree trunk in response, wordlessly giving her the go ahead. She gingerly lowered her guard, and then settled down to wrestle with her damaged flak jacket. She would certainly need a new one after this. Bloodstains were a nightmare to get out of white.

Once she had it off, the effects of removing the henge were much more obvious. There was no mistaking the petite female figure hugged by a sleeveless black body suit.

Without the vest, light was shed anew on the wound as well. It wasn't as deep as it initially appeared, and though it still spewed blood, there were no external signs that it had punctured her lung. Furthermore, she seemed to be having less than minimal trouble breathing. Kakashi guessed what little struggle she did have was a result of the pain, and not shortness of breath.

A kunai glistened through the wind and plunged into her thigh. Her flak jacket fell from her grasp, fluttering to the forest floor, while she swayed and clung to the branch beneath her. Kakashi leapt to his feet, replacing his face mask, and opened his Sharingan to scan the vicinity.

There was no need to look far, as a bundle of sporadic chakra sailed straight toward him from the north, his 10:00. He raised a kunai, and blade clashed against blade. Sparks. A blur of cool grey and brown. Kakashi's Sharingan had no trouble keeping up with the Taki nin as he dashed across three different trees before coming to an unsteady stop.

It was one that they had buried in the landslide. Obviously, these shinobi were more resilient than they'd given them credit for. They should have stayed to be sure the job was done.

"You _will_ die for your impudence, Konoha trash!" the ninja spat, his golden eyes alight with rage that could be seen even from a distance of twenty yards.

Kakashi kept his exterior reaction calm and collected, if not a hint bored. "That's not very nice." Somehow, this ninja had put things together. Perhaps somehow, he was familiar with Konoha ANBU. That meant they couldn't risk leaving him alive, or the Leaf could find themselves embroiled in another war. Reading the messages displayed by the man's tightly-coiled chakra, he was wounded - perhaps gravely so. The chakra paths seemed to spiral around several points in his ribcage, as well as his left knee. Vulnerability points.

The Copy Nin glanced to his comrade, who had since pulled the offending kunai from her leg and now threw it out into the tree boughs with disgust. "Are you all right?"

"Sit down, taichou," she barked, lips twisted in a snarl directed toward their attacker. "I'll handle this."

"You're wounded. Twice, now."

"And you've exhausted your chakra! Keep what you have; I don't plan on carrying you home. Let me take care of this nuisance." She leveled him with a serious glare, a resolve building behind her large eyes that let him clearly know that she would follow through on this plan even if he said no.

He felt his borrowed eye throb, and then decided that perhaps she was right. He stepped back, conceding to her judgment, and leaned a hand on the tree trunk.

Frog reached back to a sheath situated horizontally along her lower back, hung on her belt. From it, she brandished a simple handle.

The Taki nin looked on, and threw his head back to laugh. "So, you're a woman after all!" he taunted with a leer. "Well then, this will be fun!"

Her lip curled, and she held the handle out before her with a shriek of a battle cry. "Don't you dare underestimate me!"

Her hands glowed blue with expelling chakra, and the handle responded. The ends extended, growing rapidly with the aid of the energy, until she held not a handle, but a long staff of gleaming steel, lined with chakra streams.

"Ninja Art," Frog declared, putting the staff through two simple swings with one hand and forming a simple hand sign with the other, "Kamikaze!"

The active Sharingan gave Kakashi an even more stunning visual as a blaze of chakra enveloped her body, racing over her skin, making her hair fly and her eyes flare. No matter how many times he saw it, he couldn't help but appreciate the raw power that bled from her pores and filled the air with the loom of death. The staff shone bright with the sheer and utter power her chakra signature had activated.

Frog, taken by a quite sudden rage, threw herself at the Taki nin with a feral scream.

Kakashi was just as suddenly glad he'd stayed behind in the tree.

The Yaseino hidden technique, after all, was not to be trifled with.

It was a ridiculously effective jutsu known only to what was left of the family name. It relied solely on the Staff, which acted as a storehouse for chakra. This store could be tapped into during battle, activating what was known as the Kamikaze jutsu. It released enormous amounts of chakra, so dense it became visible, that enhanced one's skills and senses.

The Taki scarcely had time to hesitate. The mad kunoichi leapt straight to him in a matter of seconds, staff drawn back and ready for impact, and said impact knocked the enemy shinobi straight through the tree on which he stood. A crack and a crash saw the tree top tumbling to the forest floor.

The catch - for there was always a catch to accessing such intense power - remained that this enhanced state came at the cost of one's complete awareness. Beyond the battle, nothing was clear. The Staff had a symbiotic relationship with its user. It gave them power and focus in return for a glimpse into the mind - in order to access and tap into the emotions. A nagging fear, a deep-set hatred, anger, sorrow - these were the things that drove the Kamikaze. In the face of such raw power and emotional drive, the lines between friend and foe blurred.

She pinpointed every vulnerable point. The Taki nin, further injured and quickly reduced to a crawl, shrieked in fear at the Yaseino's approach, and soon dissolved to begging in the face of her wrath.

Kakashi had never dared touch the weapon himself. Who knew what would happen if he did? The only person who had ever wielded the Staff as far as he knew was Frog. He'd been told that her father passed the weapon to her. It had been said that this weapon alone was the only reason she'd been allowed into ANBU at all.

With one final thrust of the Staff, a skull cracked, blood spattered, Frog ended it and the forest plunged once again into eerie silence. Two predators had clashed. One had triumphed. And that one now stood over the bloodied corpse of her prey, hands gripping her weapon with white knuckles.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the waves of chakra began to recede. It drained into the points of contact between her and the Staff, as the latter absorbed the chakra from the former to replenish what had been unleashed. From his vantage point, Kakashi could see her arms shaking, even as she let the staff shrink back down to its small, portable size.

If anyone wondered why such a person was assigned to Team Ro, they had never seen her fight.

She sheathed the small, now-bloodstained handle, and took a single step toward turning around. Her step faltered. Kakashi saw her chakra spasm, and with a short breath, he dashed to her side. She landed against his forearm, and she was heavier than she looked.

After taking a moment to replace his Wolf mask and send a weary sigh to the heavens, he situated one arm around her shoulders, and looped his other wrist under her knees, scooping her up. Then he began what was sure to end as a very long trudge by heading over to retrieve her discarded flak jacket.

He was right. The rest of the way home would be definitely be slow going.


	19. Nightmares: Where am I?

**Nightmares: Where Am I?**

 **Date Posted: 3/29/16**

 **Word Count: 823**

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 _"Can you help me?" she asked. "I don't know where I am."_

 _The man with silver hair and a nice face looked her over, and offered no more than a helpless shrug, and a quizzical tilt of his head. "Do you know who you are?"_

 _"I think so…"_

 _"Who are you?"_

 _"Hana."_

 _"Ah, a flower. That's nice."_

 _She looked down and yes, she was a flower. A dinky little flower with two plain leaves for arms. She wondered if she was pretty, or if anybody would try to pick her. That would be scary._

 _"Of course you're pretty, sweetheart," said her mother, with a smile on her face. Her face looked so much older now than before Papa died. "You're my daughter, after all."_

 _She didn't know what that meant, so she looked for the man with silver hair, but he'd left already. So Hana the flower walked and walked, looking for something to do and wondering if she'd get picked. That led her to wonder whether or not that would be a terrible thing._

 _Then she came to a river, and it was so wide, there was no way she would get across. The water rushed, and rushed loud. It rung in her hears._

 _"Careful, baby," said her daddy's voice beside her. There was his face, smiling like he used to. "The river likes to gobble up adventurous little girls."_

 _"Daddy, how can I get bigger?" she asked, watching the water rage. "I want to get bigger so I can cross the river."_

 _Her father laughed. "Why would you want to cross the river?"_

 _Hana looked, and saw the silver haired man on the other side, crossing blades with a man in red who had no face._

 _"Because he's over there! And he's fighting. I want to fight too, because those faceless guys need to be beaten, don't they?"_

 _"That's true," said her father. "Well, if you want to get bigger and fight, then you need to breathe in the sunlight, and think big. You also can't let anyone step on you, or pluck you up, or you could get hurt and then you'll never grow. Only let somebody you trust pick you, and make sure they take your roots with them."_

 _"But you're only a flower!" Mother protested, flailing her arms. "Flowers can't fight! Flowers are supposed to be lovely and delicate and bring happiness to others."_

 _"What is a flytrap?" Father retorted._

 _Breathe in the sunlight? How could she breathe the sun? Did the sun have a smell? Would it burn?_

 _The silver haired man kept fighting the faceless people, and she kept pondering just what it meant to breathe in the sun. Then her father swung his staff at one of the faceless men, and suddenly, everyone was dead._

 _Dead. All dead. Even Father._

 _There was blood everywhere, and they said it was because of her daddy. They said he went crazy and killed everybody with his staff, and then when he realized what he'd done, he killed himself. Other people said that he just died because it was too hard. The staff killed him, they said._

 _Then they put the staff in her hands, and she remembered that she wanted to grow. And she wanted to fight._

 _"You're just a little girl!" cried her mother, who refused to look at Daddy's headstone. "Just a little flower… What can you do?"_

 _Breathe in the sun. Hana breathed, and she rose taller until she could hold the staff comfortably in her leaves. Then she tore off her petals, and threw them into the river._

 _She gripped the staff tightly in her hands, and glared at her mother._

 _"I can fight."_

 _The faceless people came back, and Hana fought. She fought with her staff, and she fought with the silver haired man. There were others too, all around her, and she knew they were on her side. The staff waved itself, and she felt very, very angry._

 _She didn't know who she was angry at, but she was angry, and she wanted to hit things._

 _She liked hearing the bones break._

 _Blood, lots of blood. Hot on her skin. It burned away her leaves and petals like acid. It turned the river water red._

 _She killed them all. She killed the faceless men, and the wood user, and the marmot and the one with the kind eyes, and finally, she killed the silver haired man._

 _And as the last choked syllable of his short scream blew away with the wind, she stood before her mother, covered in blood thick like paint, and her mother was crying._

 _"You're just a little girl," Mother said, big, fat tears streaming down her face. "What can you do?"_

 _Hana looked her right in her eyes, the eyes that looked too much like hers. And the flower smiled a mouthful of sharp teeth._

 _"I can kill you."_

 _Her mother screamed._

Hana Yaseino woke up screaming too.


	20. My Crush, Kakashi: Unanticipated

**My Crush, Kakashi: Unanticipated & Utterly Annoying**

 **Date Posted: 4/9/16**

 **Word Count: 999**

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 **A/N: ...whoops. I thought I posted this already... my bad. O.o**

* * *

"Hey, Marmot."

He ducked. A kunai clacked above his head, lodging in the doorframe. The ninja knife earned itself a keen look from him, during which he noted how deeply the blade had made itself at home in the wood. About a half inch. She certainly hadn't been trying.

Itachi Uchiha had only just entered the hospital room, and such was the welcome he received. On the gurney across the small enclosed space, a figure sat basking in the rays of sun that filtered through the room's only window.

"Weasel," he said absently to her. He stared at the kunai a moment longer, before turning his studious gaze to his teammate. "Where did you manage to get a hold of a kunai in a hospital room?" He approached closer with his fruit basket brandished before him as an offering of peace.

Frog - or Hana, he supposed, considering that as a patient at Konoha Hospital, she was definitely off duty - pouted on her assigned bed, arms folded over a fresh set of standard issue navies. That meant she wouldn't be staying long.

"I'm not about to let them keep me here defenseless," she said.

"You mean without a way to antagonize the nurses?"

He wasn't surprised at the following silence. He'd anticipated it, and responded with a small smile. Daring to come close to the bedside, he set the basket on the bedside table.

"Kakashi-taichou said you used the Kamikaze," he said, taking a casual stance despite the gravity of the statement. He didn't know just how hush-hush her special jutsu was, or if it was a subject that needed to be avoided. Nobody had bothered to explain beyond what the name meant.

"Yeah." She eyed him. A little suspicious, and a little proud, he thought. "What about it?"

"And that's why you're here," Itachi finished. He wondered vaguely if she really was as oblivious as she made herself sound.

"It is not!" the kunoichi argued, and raised a hand to point out the window at some distant subject. "That stupid man dumped me here on some overprotective notion that I was dying of chakra exhaustion - which I was _not_! I had a couple of scratches, but the fatigue always comes with using the Staff. It's part of the technique."

"Fainting is a little more than simple fatigue. And 'that stupid man' was just concerned about you." No matter what sort of friend she was, there was no way he would stand there idle while she called their team captain names. Itachi folded his arms over his small chest. "He just doesn't like to say it in so many words."

For some strange reason, her face turned an interesting shade of pink at this notion, and it took Itachi less than five seconds to pinpoint a plausible reason why. After all, this had been her first solo mission with Kakashi-taichou. Such a thing came with certain expectations - one such being a glimpse of the legendary Copy Nin's face.

Itachi had seen it for a fleeting second as they'd taken their food pills on his very first mission in the ANBU. And despite all the hoopla, he didn't understand what the great fuss was about. Kakashi-taichou had a nice face. But he preferred to keep it hidden. What was so terrible about that? It was mysterious, not criminal.

But he had an inkling that the mysteriousness of it wasn't what had Frog so out of sorts. Not with the way she was blushing and so obviously trying to hide it.

Unfortunately, the Copy Ninja's face seemed to have this effect on women in general. Which, honestly, Itachi found more comical than anything.

To imagine, the dark and lazy Hatake making highly-trained kunoichi swoon like schoolgirls. He couldn't resist an amused smile.

"Stop smirking! Don't look at me like that!" Hana spat, recoiling in an uncharacteristic bout of insecurity.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Hana-chan." His smile broadened. "I believe Gai-taichou calls it a part of youth."

He dodged the pillow as well.

"SHUT UP!" the accused kunoichi snarled, understandably irritable. That didn't necessarily mean she should take it out on him, but he was currently volunteering to stand in as her target simply by being present. "Nobody asked you!"

She hugged herself and glowered at the sunshine, which made the atmosphere around her seem far too cheery.

Now, Itachi could continue to hang around and affectionately pester the older girl. It could be fun, and he wouldn't push it too far. She might even appreciate the distraction from her forced containment.

But she was also acting strangely. And this would come as no surprise, if she was dealing with the self-same aftereffects of exposure to Kakashi-taichou's face as most other women. That had to be quite the awkward adjustment.

Frog was never one for girly habits, after all. She ran with the boys. She had mud fights. She could spit farther than any boy Itachi knew. And there was an unspoken rule among the male members of Team Ro that you did not cross her, or else she wasn't afraid to hit you where it would really hurt. She had more guts than many shinobi twice her size, further demonstrated by the raw intensity her jutsu was said to produce.

So, if this hardcore girl was suddenly dealing with the fluffy butterfly feeling in her stomach… Itachi, unable to keep it at bay, let a snort of amusement escape him.

"Are you laughing at me!?" she screeched, and he held up his hands to try and placate her.

"No, no! I just… thought of something funny."

"You little liar!"

"I'm sorry! It's just… your face…" More snickering claimed him victim. He willed his feet to inch toward the door, knowing that as things stood, he was fixing to make himself a victim of something else, likely more violent, too.

"GET OUTTA HERE, YOU PEEVING MARMOT!"

He followed those orders quite promptly.


	21. Nightmares: Balancing Act

**Nightmares: Balancing Act**

 **Date Posted: 5/8/16**

 **Word Count: 1031**

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 **A/N: GOODNESS, I do apologize for the long wait on this one! I did Camp NaNo this April, so that took up most of my writing time. But I have more time now, so I'll be getting back into the habit of updating this. :) I hope you all enjoy this installment!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

 _He had to cross the rope._

 _He didn't know why. But he knew there was something he had to do. It was his job, to cross the rope. Greedy black shadows hid the ground far below, and he could see nothing above or around him._

 _Just the rope._

 _There was a platform at one end. On it, there floated a deep, crystal mirror. He could see himself in it. At the other end, an identical platform and mirror waited. And he stood in the middle, perfectly balanced on the wire._

 _"Itachi!"_

 _The voice came from the mirror on his left. He looked up, and in the glass was reflected his father. Fugaku Uchiha._

 _Fugaku stared at him with his regal hardness. The way he almost always looked. But never with him._

 _"You are an Uchiha, born and bred. You owe your allegiance to your kin. Our future rests on your shoulders. You were born to this purpose."_

 _The mirror swirled, and he stared at himself again._

 _"Uchiha!"_

 _This voice snapped from the mirror on his right. He jerked his gaze in that direction to stare at his reflection, and instead stared into the cold eyes of Danzo Shimura._

 _"As a shinobi of the Leaf, you are bound to protect all those who claim sanction therein. Not just the Uchiha, but the village as a whole. Innocent men, women, and children. The good of the village comes above all else."_

 _The apparition wafted and swirled, like a cloud of smoke, before vanishing just as the first had. He stared into his own Sharingan eyes._

 _He had yet to move a step._

 _"Itachi!" called Fugaku again, from the left mirror. "Do not forget the hatred we suffer. Do not forget the countless generations of Uchiha who have put up with cruelty and segregation, unfairly judged according to our ancestors. So judged by the same people this village expects us to serve. We cannot stand for this."_

 _He paused. He thought. It was true. Incensed stares with no rooted purpose, complaints, ridiculous restrictions. The Uchiha were persecuted for a history they couldn't help._

 _"Uchiha!" said Danzo again, from the right mirror. "Your clan drifts ever closer to the edge of reason. They return hatred for hatred, and make little efforts toward the compromises offered them. They are quick to accuse, and as slow to forget as the rest of us. Their animosity makes them a dangerous threat to the stability of Konohagakure."_

 _He paused. He thought. It was true. Incensed stares with legitimate purpose, complaints, ridiculous expectations. The Uchiha returned the village's distrust with bitterness and cruelty, only further incriminating themselves._

 _"Itachi!" Fugaku shouted. In the mirror, he looked distressed, pained even. "You have great power, both as a shinobi and as an Uchiha. As your father, I ask of you: please, aid us in our revolution. We will overthrow this corrupted system led by prejudice old men and construct a new, better system, free of bias. The Leaf Village will at last be at peace with itself. Come, my son, and let us build a better place together."_

 _His heart clenched. He saw the problems. He saw the ways dictated by age-old traditions, and all the flaws that were willfully ignored for the sake of avoiding upheaval. The Elders and the Hokage, well-meaning though they might've been, were unwilling to rock the boat even if it meant striving for something better than what they had._

 _"Uchiha!" Danzo bellowed. He jumped, looked, and found that same cold gaze staring him down. "Your people hold the gift of the Sharingan, one of the most powerful techniques in the world. Think of the state of chaos that would come were your clan to revolt and drag the entire village into a civil war. Konoha would crumble. Stability would be lost, along with countless lives of civilians and shinobi alike. Your friends, who have taken you in as their own, would label you a traitor and be forced to hunt you down. This society as we know it would disappear. Only ruin would lie in the ashes, and the Land of Fire would be without its ninja village. This could lead to a decline in the status quo of world politics, and even more people across this nation could be put at risk. Would you really do such a thing, for the sake of a single clan?"_

 _His heart sank. He saw these problems too. He saw the fires of war spreading to the borders of the Land of Fire and beyond. He saw his country without a defense. He saw Leaf shinobi lying dead, and the remnant scattered abroad. He saw civilians without protectors. The Uchiha, justified though their anger might have been, were catapulting toward world war, and wanton death._

 _"Itachi," Fukagu whispered. "You must choose."_

 _"Uchiha," Danzo murmured. "Choose now, or be counted among the rest."_

 _The rope set fire. It began to creep along the cord from Danzo's side, inching its way toward his feet. He watched it with wide eyes, as it danced and waved at him, licking the rope like a beast licks its maw._

 _Fire ignited on the other end too. The rope began burning away. If he didn't choose, he would fall to the abyss below._

 _As he stared into those deep shadows, he began to make out the writhing forms of people. Not just any people. He saw Uchiha. He saw all of his kinsmen, drowning in the nothingness, clawing at the air, begging for life, floundering. He saw his entire clan beneath his feet._

 _He also saw others. Others appeared in the midst of the struggling Uchiha, one after another, until a mere crowd turned into a mass so vast, it was like a sea. A sea of the dying, poor, unfortunate souls trapped in the darkness. He saw his team, he saw the Elders, the Hokage, the Academy students. He saw Sasuke._

 _He saw Sasuke._

 _Sasuke was crying._

 _Itachi jumped, off the rope, into the dark, toward his baby brother._

He awoke with a jolt, eyes bolting open and Sharingan flaring to life.

The shadows that bathed his ceiling did little to comfort him.


	22. My Crush, Kakashi: Strange Things

**My Crush, Kakashi: Strange Things**

 **Date Posted: 5/19/16**

 **Word Count: 2818**

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If there was ever one thing that Tsuki Busho was certain of, it was that men would be men. The sun would rise and set, rain would fall on the good and bad, her monthly would plague her, and men would be men. And it was such a bother.

Such was demonstrated by the fact that Kakashi-taichou had allowed himself to be goaded into an arm-wrestling match with Mo-senpai. A shame, such a level-headed man stooping to such primitive behavior.

Hokamaru had started it, Tenzo had chimed in, and now the two impromptu competitors were situated at a small card table that Otter and Lizard had dragged from the locker room's utility closet. It smelled like moths and old grease, and that oily scent permeated the room, along with the extra testosterone and the sting of sweat.

Tsuki sighed at the overwhelming presence of _man_.

Unfortunately, this wasn't a new occurrence. The locker room always reeked of the opposite gender. One adapted, but sometimes, she missed her apartment. Strike that: most of the time. At least it smelled like her. But it was too much trouble to actually get up off her bench-turned-cot to vacate the area.

Besides. She was inwardly rooting for Mo-senpai. And she had nothing better to do.

"Give it to him, Kakashi-senpai!" Frog rooted from her place at another bench, and the phrase struck Tsuki as very odd. It warped the masculine voice set in place by the younger girl's henge, and made it sound much too personable. Even Tenzo gave the smaller ANBU a strange look for it.

And no wonder. She usually called him taichou, like the rest of them - save said wood-style user.

Something had been different ever since the two returned from their two-man mission—Kakashi-taichou had limped up to the village gates, chakra levels low, carrying an unconscious and wounded Yaseino in his arms. It had taken the latter a week to recover. The medical ninja at the hospital had wanted her to stay longer, but she would have none of it.

Come to think of it, she'd been acting oddly even when Tsuki had visited her—the closest thing she would ever have to a rival—in the hospital room. Hana had kept staring at her face in the window, fidgeting with the ends of her hair and picking at the callouses on her palms. _Disgusting habit…_

"I'm betting on Mo-san," said the little Uchiha boy. Team Ro's captain shot him a wounded look for that.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Itachi," the Hatake said.

"Mo-san will definitely win," chimed Suzume, making Kakashi wither.

"All right!" Hokamaru raised a hand toward the ceiling, fingers rigid, and Tsuki relished the momentary hush that filled the room. Such quiet; so nice…

"Ready… and… go!" The Hyuga dropped his hand. The match began.

Tsuki didn't need to see to know what was going to happen, so she let her eyes close. All this competition was making her exhausted just thinking about it, let alone watching. Her long lashes tickled her cheeks, and she wondered vaguely if it would be odd to request her barber to trim them…

Something thumped, rattling the card table, and the room exploded in cheers and jeers. By the sounds, she deduced Suzume, Tenzo, and Itachi were laughing. Victory. Frog booed, while Hokamaru made sounds of secondhand offense, guffawing. Mo-sempai must have won.

"Ow," Kakashi-taichou was muttering.

"Sorry," said Mo-senpai's deep baritone, with a smile in his voice. "I suppose that was a little much…"

"I suppose I asked for it." The Copy Nin offered a short, anxious laugh.

"Two out of three?" Hokamaru offered, sounding eager for the ridiculousness to continue. Tsuki twisted her face in a scowl. Heaven forbid this stupid game went on.

Thankfully, Mo spoke up again. "No, no, you got what you wanted. Now you know who's stronger in brute strength. I still think Kakashi-taichou would win in a spar."

"Only because you're too soft," Tsuki droned, opening her eyes to finally participate in the conversation. What she said was certainly true. Despite being the oldest among them, the veteran was far, far too nice for his own good.

"Being soft isn't always a bad thing," said the older shinobi with a gentle smile in her direction. Despite herself, she let the fondness soften her resolve and didn't push the issue.

He was soft, but he was the best of them. She couldn't disagree with that.

"Kakashi-senpai needs a rematch," said Frog, folding her boyish arms. "That had to be a one-time thing. It's common knowledge that our taichou is the strongest of us."

"Obviously not," snickered Hokamaru with a smirk. "He just lost. To Panther."

"You don't have to say it like it's a bad thing." Tsuki didn't put a terribly draining amount of energy into the defense, but she felt obligated to say something. It wasn't like Mo cheated. He was just better at one thing over another, and that one thing was a thing that Kakashi-taichou was less skilled in. Raw force.

Kakashi excelled in covert operations, stealth and accuracy and speed. Mo was the muscle, the size and strength and fortitude of the team. Two highly skilled shinobi on equal footing as far as general skill, but with diversity. Why were they even comparing themselves?

"All right, all right," said Kakashi, standing up to slip his hands into their usual place in his pockets. "Mo is right. Show's over."

"Aww, but senpai-" Frog whined. Such an odd sound, in a man's voice… She was such a child.

"No more. We have training to do. We need to work on formations."

Tsuki had to admire the way Kakashi-taichou was able to take a casual situation and rein it back to business. He took no crap and minced no words for the sake of tact. It was refreshing in a world full of frivolous flattery and sugary sweet-talk.

But she could do without the training. It was such a bore. And she was already bored. Boring plus bored equalled more boring.

She groaned to demonstrate her distaste. "But I'm so tired…"

"Come on, Badger," the Copy Nin coerced with an audible smirk, "it's not that bad. Besides, we have a newer member who's still learning our formations."

"Yeah. A prodigy who picks up everything you tell him like a sponge and masters it on the first try," she retorted without enthusiasm.

But her opinion made no difference. Five minutes later saw the team filing onto the training grounds. Tsuki, despite her reservations and her silent balking, found her gaze drawn to the other woman on the team, who kept herself close to their taichou—closer than usual, anyway. Usually, she stuck around Hokamaru. The two were the terrible troublemakers of the group, so it wasn't uncommon to see them at each others' sides. But this newfound fascination of hers was certainly interesting. And a welcome distraction from the utter purposelessness that was life.

What could it be? Was it the fact that Kakashi-taichou had rescued her from the precarious tail end of their mission? No, Hana was harder to impress than that.

Wasn't she?

Even through their masks, which had all been donned before leaving the locker room, Tsuki could see when Frog stared that she stared right at Kakashi-taichou's Wolf mask.

Then it hit her.

His face.

She'd seen his face.

That had to be it. What else could have changed? It was the mysterious spell that the Hatake seemed able to put on those who caught that ever-elusive and highly-coveted glimpse of his countenance. That made all the sense in the world.

Her expression soured further.

5 years in the ANBU, 3 of those spent on Team Ro, and she had yet to see Kakashi Hatake's face. In fact, in all the time he'd been team captain, she had never even been assigned on a two-man mission with him. And group outings were a thing that, until now, she went out of her way to avoid if she could. They were so troublesome.

But now, this made her the only member who had yet to get a good look at his face.

She found herself even more miffed than before.

"Badger!" the Copy Nin in question called, snapping her from her thoughts. She gave little reaction, however, as she rolled her gaze toward the sound of his voice.

"What?" she grumped. She'd worked herself into a mood, and the sight of his masked face did nothing to help it.

He sighed. "Try to pay attention, even if this bores you. All right?"

"Yes, sir…" she mumbled.

This was why Frog had been acting so oddly. Putting the situation into perspective, it just made her want to hide away in her apartment out of sheer exasperation. Hana's obliviousness and obvious lack of experience made her attempts to garner Kakashi-taichou's attention absolutely pitiful and painful to watch.

After all, Hana Yaseino was a tomboy to the bone. Matters of femininity and womanhood, aside from inevitable biological reminders, were foreign concepts. That doubled the awkwardness and therefore the chances of secondhand embarrassment.

Tsuki groaned again. If she let this play out, who knew how much discomfort she and the rest of the team would be subjected to.

The berserker kunoichi obviously needed some instruction. Or at least, a nudge in the right direction.

It irked her to no end and she couldn't care less about external appearance, but Tsuki knew how to manipulate men. And though she considered those on her own team a step above most, they were still men. And men would be men when faced with the wiles of a woman.

And Hana Yaseino had better appreciate what Tsuki Busho was considering. Because it would require more effort than anything she'd done in the last three months.

"Everyone, fall back," said Kakashi-taichou. "Otter, you're with me. Formation A."

"But we go over this one all the time!" Hokamaru objected, sagging a little.

Tsuki sighed, rolling her shoulders. She'd once complained about these formations. After all, what were the chances that they'd be able to account for every single variable in a combat situation? The enemy often had formations or plans of their own. But Kakashi-taichou had then clarified that they were exercises of unity and confidence in one's teammates, as well as forming a base on which to pivot one's actions and reactions. A shinobi always had a plan, but also remained adaptable as the situation flowed.

She couldn't help wondering now and then, though. Usually, they worked seamlessly, so much so that it was no wonder why they'd all been assigned to the Hokage. Why flog a dead horse?

Meanwhile, she kept an eye on Frog. The disguised kunoichi still had her shadowed eyes glued on the captain, ogling his every move. It was amazing how nobody else seemed to have noticed this. Unless they'd noticed and just weren't saying anything. Which was even more amazing.

Tsuki sighed again. It seemed she would have to find some discreet way to give Frog some pointers. This not-so-subtle display was painful and borderline stalker-ish. But how was she going to do that? Certainly not here. Here, on the training field, was not the appropriate place for that sort of thing—be it she or Hana who did it. At least in most situations. But when else would Tsuki get the opportunity? She didn't seek out the other young woman's company, and the sentiments were mutual. If Frog tried anything, here and now, Tsuki was sure she'd subconsciously activate the Hiding-Like-a-Mole jutsu just so she didn't have to witness it.

In making known her interest in a man, a woman wanted to be discreet, but clever. Alluring. Loud or tactless declarations, or fumbling and beating around the bush? That was a man's job.

"Yes," said Kakashi in response to Hokamaru's complaining. "And we're going over it again. Itachi, you and Frog trade places."

"What!?" Frog shrieked. "B-But I'm always the wingback in Formation A!"

"You just got out of the hospital for using too much chakra," Kakashi argued evenly. "You can take Itachi's place as center guard for now."

"But Formation A has always depended on the Kamikaze Staff," Mo pointed out.

Kakashi nodded. "All the more reason for us to try something different. Now let's move. Into positions!"

Tsuki sighed, and jogged to reach her place. She was to fall back with Mo and Hokamaru, as Formation A had them all acting as safeties for the primary advancer - usually Frog, this time Itachi.

"Hey Marmot," Frog spat, getting the young Uchiha's attention as she moved to the center of the formation, where the center guard usually stood. "You'd better not screw this up."

He nodded, and then settled into position just ahead of Tenzo, who'd previously been trailing behind and had now come out of the woodwork to take his own place at the rear center of this formation.

 _Woodwork… Ha. Wood Style. That's funny._

Kakashi himself stepped back, since he played only a minor role in this maneuver as the right defensive end (Otter being the left). He stayed ahead, off to the side, and at a distance, keeping his Sharingan eye on things to be sure they went smoothly.

"Here we go…" Tsuki grumbled.

"And go," Kakashi said, and the team jumped to action.

Tenzo called his first jutsu. "Wood Style: Silent Strangle!"

Itachi jumped up onto the wood as it sprang from Tenzo's arm and began running along the top, where Frog usually went, readying her berserker staff. Tsuki in the meantime, settled into a steady rhythm, matching paces with Itachi to keep even with him. In a battlefield setting, there would be enemies all around who could interfere with such a direct attack, which was usually used for crucial targets.

Not three seconds into the maneuver, there was a loud _thunk_ ing noise, and Tsuki's gaze dropped and darted to find the source. The following thud pulled her attention to where Frog lay sprawled on her face under the growing tendrils of wood, clutching the back of her head, and it all clicked into place.

After all, Itachi was a good deal shorter than Frog.

"OW!" Frog howled in her transformed masculine voice. "YOU MORON!"

The way Formation A was supposed to work was this: the team closed in on a high profile target amidst a group of lower rank enemies. Kakashi-taichou and Otter acted as advance guards, keeping the way clear for the main advance duo - Frog and Itachi, whichever place they may be. Tenzo provided a wood bridge over the rest of the fray, giving them an easy and direct path toward the target, while the rest of the team kept all other enemies at bay. If the target was sentient, and tried to dodge left, he ran into Kakashi. Dodge right, and he ran into Otter. Duck under, and he faced Itachi Uchiha. And if he jumped up - which was what they normally did to dodge the Wood Style - he would face the Yaseino kamikaze. And likely wind up smashed into the ground. To date, nobody had been smart enough to retreat instead.

At least, that was how it was supposed to go.

"Oops…" Tenzo muttered from a ways behind them all.

"Tenzo," Kakashi sighed, having come to a stop himself and slapped his palm over his forehead.

"I'm sorry! I've never done this with anyone but Itachi as center guard!" The wood-style user defended himself, while simultaneously retracting his wooden tendrils. The Uchiha in question hopped down off of them. "We came up with this formation with Itachi in that spot, and it hasn't changed until now. And it isn't as if I can see past the bridge I'm making."

"That's why we're practicing." Kakashi approached the fallen ANBU operative, and offered her a hand up.

Tsuki tried to keep her snicker to herself. Frog was likely glad to be wearing her mask.

After a brief hesitation, she gripped the Copy Nin's steady forearm and with his assistance, dragged herself to her feet. The contact lingered—in a completely natural way, of course, as most would be sure the person they'd helped up was firmly on their feet before letting go—and Tsuki wondered more what Frog's expression looked like. Probably very comical. And red.

Kakashi, professional, stiff-backed and unfazed as usual, turned back to the rest of the team. Tsuki wondered next, for a short moment, what it would take to break that calm, collected mask of his. Could such a man even be affected by a skilled woman's charm?

"All right," he declared, "try again."


	23. Nightmares: Phantom of the ANBU

**Nightmares: Phantom of the ANBU**

 **Date Posted: 6/21/16**

 **Word Count: 1245**

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 **A/N: oh my gosh i am so sorry for the long wait! First it was Camp NaNo, then it was spending the next month doubling my word count in time for a writers' workshop last week. But I have returned! Huzzah!**

 **THANKS TO ALL WHO REVIEWED, FAVED, AND FOLLOWED! :D Y'all keep me going!  
**

 **fluffpenguin: I can't give anything away as far as what I have planned for the future (*River Song impression* _spoilers_!), but thanks so much for reviewing! :3 I hope you enjoy this next installment.**

 **Orodruin: thanks so much! I love getting and reading longer reviews. It's so great to know what exactly my readers are liking about my fics. ^_^ And for the record, I love your Kakashi fics. 3**

 **That's all for now! Though, I suppose I haven't done a disclaimer for a while...**

 **I DO NOT OWN NARUTO OR ANY OF ITS CANON CHARACTERS!**

 **Thanks guys! Love y'all! ;3**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

 _They walked right through him, and no matter how he steeled himself… no matter how he closed his eyes… each puff of the vapor that was his body, disturbed by the intrusion of the others, made a hollowness grow in his core, cold fingers reaching through him with the icy grip of sorrow._

 _There was his first team. Goro, Akane, Isamu-sensei. Mo loved them all. Sunny days and splashes in a river; bento boxes and formations and lots of dust. Laughter._

 _They fought their foes bravely, but were overwhelmed. Mo was too. He could see his team through the trees, but they had lost sight of him. Genjutsu? Or just bad luck?_

 _Mo knew how it really went. But in his dreams, he could try to change things._

 _They needed to get their information back to the Hokage. The Stone ninja would have picked them all off one by one, so Isamu-sensei called the retreat. Mo couldn't hear his voice. Just saw his mouth move. Goro didn't hesitate, and vanished into the trees. Isamu-sensei followed._

 _Akane, however, glanced back. Mo met her eyes. She knew he was there._

 _He asked her to wait._

 _And then she left._

 _Mo was alone. Alone with a dozen Stone ninja who were far too willing to take him hostage and pick his brain for everything he knew._

 _Bloody lips and broken teeth._

 _The Stone ninja never got that far. Mo turned the earth that they so depended on against them, and swallowed them up. Crushed them to powder. Then he ran._

 _He ran back home. Everyone thought he was dead. But even as they acknowledged his presence, he could not touch a single one of them. His hands passed right through them. He was a ghost. Visible, but intangible. Busy streets and a broken heart._

 _He knew why they did it. The mission took priority over the individual. So what could he say?_

 _Then there was his second team, after Team Isamu let him drop—out of embarrassment or guilt, he never knew._

 _Team Kazue, or Team 5, was younger than him by two years. But he ranked the same. He had not been given the chance to make Chuunin yet. Harsh words, hesitant trust, and a healing green glow._

 _In the Chuunin exams, Mo yet felt like an apparition more than a teammate. Mei and Naoki abandoned him to a team of Mist genin early on in the second stage._

 _Deep wounds and white teeth._

 _Mist genin were vicious. They fought like animals. Mo crushed one, tore at the eyes of another as they strangled him. He hated that memory. Yet somehow, it never woke him._

 _He broke his hand incapacitating the third genin. Then by the time he reached the safe point, both of his teammates had already gotten the scrolls they needed. It meant his team passed to the next round._

 _He didn't feel the excitement._

 _But the mission took priority over the individual._

 _He chased after his teammates in the final rounds. They were always ahead of him. But they never looked back. And he couldn't grab them._

 _They both won their final rounds. They made Chuunin. Cheering, confetti, fireworks, the smell of triumph._

 _Mo made it too. But barely. He came out with a broken arm for his trouble. And while Kazue-sensei congratulated him, she did little more. She brushed through him to pat her star pupil on the back—Naoki. He had mastered his hidden technique, Shadow Strangle. He made Kazue-sensei proud._

 _Mo didn't have anything special._

 _His father always told him he shouldn't be a ninja, because there wasn't anything special Mo could do. Empty halls, hollow chest, a single egg sizzling in a frying pan. He was just Mo. Plain, simple, Earth-natured Mo Akarui._

 _Plain and simple was mediocre on the battlefield. Plain and simple made you expendable._

 _The mission took priority over the individual._

 _That was how it always was. The crowd around him grew, people he knew, but he could never touch. No matter how much he wanted to. Slick fingers on an oiled surface._  
 _Then Team Kazue left him behind too. Mo saved Naoki from blunt head trauma, courtesy of a rock slide in the Land of Rain. A rockslide that attracted attention. Mei had broken her ankle. Kazue-sensei was miles away. They had a confidential map of the enemy lines. So Mo healed Mei's foot and told her to take Naoki and the map while Mo held the enemy scouts off._

 _Don't leave me, his mind begged. She hesitated, but was too quick to do it anyway. She didn't look back like Akane did._

 _A dark prison, a grim-faced interrogator. Damp, damp, all damp. Mo had been stuck in the Rain for a week._

 _Then he shook the foundations of his prison, and brought it down around him. Thunder, screams, and choking dust._

 _Again, the village had thought him lost. Again, he returned home battered, bruised, and bloody, but alive. And untouchable._

 _After that, people stopped being surprised. And people stopped hesitating. Obviously, he didn't need them to._

 _His Chuunin unit. Three critical missions during the Third War._

 _The mission took priority over the individual._

 _His Jounin partner. Countless times._

 _The mission took priority over the individual._

 _His Chuunin apprentice in the medical field. Because medics were supposed to stay back, not fight on the front lines._

 _The mission took priority over the individual._

 _His first ANBU squad. They expected him to incinerate himself._

 _The mission took priority over the individual._

 _Turned backs. Disappearing figures. Again and again._

 _Mo came to realize that it was him. He helped people. And he got into trouble. He was too slow, too soft. Never enough to follow the others. And they would never lend a hand to reach back to him. He couldn't touch them. And even if he could, he didn't need it. He was Mo the Unshakeable. Resilient like a cockroach. He didn't need help._

 _That's what they said, anyway._

 _His nights of crying himself to sleep went unheard, even by his father._

 _Mother would've heard. But she was dead._

 _Salt water and acid._

 _When he was old enough, Mo washed his sorrows away with burning liquid that seemed to be the only thing to actually stick to him. Amazing, how he couldn't lay a hand on the people he wished would hold him, but those bottles were so easily grasped. So easily held. So easily drained._

 _Then he was 24. Old. Alone. Robotic. Drunk. Empty. Miserable._

 _He wanted to die._

 _Then… then a young white-haired ANBU captain refused to leave him. A star. Bright with purpose and fame. But dark with agony. Mo felt the darkness. But he also saw the light._

 _A warm light. A caring light. Even when Mo had made yet another mistake. Done yet another foolish thing that all the others left him behind for._

 _The mission took priority over the individual._

 _But Kakashi-taichou stayed. Mo reached out toward his light, and grasped the boy's shoulder. He shuddered in bitter shock._

 _Mo could_ touch _him._

 _Team Ro. Sunny days and splashes in a river; bento boxes and formations and lots of dust. Laughter. Trust._

 _He could touch all of them._

 _His conviction._

 _His salvation._

 _His hope._

His subconscious relinquished its grip. The dream melted away. Mo opened his eyes.

Huh. It wasn't usual for that dream to end so pleasantly.

He didn't mind _._


	24. My Crush, Kakashi: Ungrateful Little

**My Crush, Kakashi: Ungrateful Little...**

 **Date Posted: 6/29/16**

 **Word Count: 3712**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
**

 **catsrockt: I'm so happy you're enjoying it! :D Especially the 'Meet...' bits. I worry that some people won't appreciate them, seeing as they're OC introduction chapters... But it makes me happy to hear that they're your favorites! Thanks for the review, and I hope you stay tuned!**

 **silberstreif: Yes! Kakashi's intellect gets in the way of his sentimentality sometimes in the earlier parts of his life, the way I interpret his character... But he's got a heart of gold, and others can see it plain as day. He's the only one who can't... Heh, I could totally see the team defecting if he said so. :P And as I mentioned above, it is SO encouraging to see how well people are taking to my OCs! I know some people can't stand them, and so I wonder about this story sometimes...**

 **fluffpenguin: A tank? I certainly wouldn't have immediately thought of Mo in that sense, but I suppose you're right. He's a tank, for sure, but he's a sweetheart. :3**

 **Ahhh, all the wonderful feedback, especially for my OCs! X3 You guys keep me going. Thanks so much!**

 **God bless y'all! Let me know what you think of this chapter! :D**

 **~Penelope**

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There were only a few situations during formation training that were appropriate for subtle flirting. Tsuki knew that any other options were off the table; other than these specific two, any moves made during training would wind up cliche, out of place, and painfully awkward. Awkward wasn't attractive—something that Hana desperately needed to understand.

And since the other kunoichi seemed utterly clueless of how these sort of things worked, it appeared to be up to her to take advantage of their current situation and give her some examples to try.

 _This is going to be such a pain…_

But if it meant she got out of the haunting drag that was secondhand embarrassment, it would almost pay the effort off.

So, when it came time for her line to rotate, she jumped at the command, ducked in front of Kakashi-taichou, and made the fluid transition from sparring with Tenzo to sparring with him.

Hand-to-hand was a learning experience. Like taking someone out to eat, or going through a person's collection of books. You could tell a lot about an individual based on their fighting style.

First and foremost, you could tell their chakra nature.

Tenzo was a Wood user—an equivocal blend of Water and Earth. Water was the element of change—always moving, changing and growing. Cool and gentle, or white and raging. Earth, on the other hand, was the element of substance. Stability, neutrality, and a balance of defense and offense. These nature preferences showed through his fighting style. He tended to keep his feet planted, moving only when necessary, but kept the rest of his body fluid and flexible. When he dodged a blow, he used the momentum from the defense to flow into an offense. And his blows were firm, unyielding, but quick, and one ran right into the next. This was Tenzo's technique.

Kakashi's natural preference was Lightning. Lightning was the element of precision, speed, and adaptability. It couldn't be stopped; only contained. It couldn't be controlled; only directed. Lightning was volatile and unpredictable, but high in impact and aftershock damage when directed by a skilled hand. Kakashi demonstrated this nature type in the quick and powerful attacks and defenses he used. His attacks were direct, usually with a single, specific target area in mind, and he put a lot of power into his momentum. He threw himself in, made his strike, and then reeled back, poised and ready to strike again a mere second after. Like a cobra. His defense consisted of deflection and parries rather than solid blocks (unless he was feeling particularly assertive), always redirecting the opponent's own power while coming back with his own. This was Kakashi's technique.

These preferences could often affect their personal lives as well, but Tsuki had mentally analyzed that a long time ago.

The ideal situation would be if Hana could analyze these preferences herself. This would lead to her understanding how best to approach a man like Kakashi —despite the fact that Tsuki had every reason to believe that the man in question had no interest in a romantic relationship whatsoever. For starters, his mind was far too dark.

But she wasn't about to tell Hana that.

He jabbed his hand toward her ribs. She followed the motion back and away with a single step.

Tsuki's nature was Fire. The element of power, or some such ambitious thing. It was usually associated with raw force fueled by unflinching will. It was a purely offensive nature, with its number of defensive techniques little-to-none. This led her to a careful fighting style, focus on either pure offense, ending the fight quickly, or a focus on slippery evasion until the moment presented itself, during which she could let blow a single, cure-all maneuver to end all maneuvers.

His eyes were hard and focused, and she wondered just how aware he was of the fact that they were only sparring. Just how much did he lose himself in combat? Because it would be troublesome if one day, he forgot completely and at the moment one of Team Ro's members got the drop on him, he lashed out with a deadly Chidori to the chest.  
He jabbed and pushed, she gave, and he continued to do so until they'd almost strayed too far from the other sparring pairs. So, Tsuki continued to give rather than spare the effort to go through Kakashi, and she ducked under and spun around him so that their spar pressed in the opposite direction.

This sparring was focused solely on taijutsu. No special techniques, no ninjutsu, not even ninja weapons were allowed. Skill against skill alone. For the times when any number of them needed to conserve chakra and could rely on simple physical maneuvers to keep their enemy at bay.

"You're too evasive; you don't always have time, Badger," Kakashi said as he continued to lash out at her vulnerable points—her throat, her stomach, her knees and feet. His hand strikes were rigid and cutting, like his Lightning Blade.

"Take enough time, and your opponent grows frustrated," she droned, making her point without much trouble. It was a simple enough statement, proven by his impatience and reinforced by yet another dodge on her part.

He leaned back and swung up a kick toward her chin, which she ducked under. "Hm. Point taken."

She finally lashed out with a strike of her own, stabbing her fingers toward the tendons on the back of his leg before he'd even lowered it from his kick. If he reversed momentum to end it, he'd bring the soft spot behind his knee right down on her attack.

Unfortunately, he followed through with the kick, turning in a full circle, and used his momentum to bring the other leg up in a backwards kick. Tsuki bent her head back, spine arching until the crest of her hair brushed the ground, just to dodge that stroke.

Kakashi sighed as he pulled back a moment to regroup his stance. "Fire users…" he muttered, almost disappointed.

"Static-head," she retorted without emotion, raising herself back up. She watched him closely. Time was likely almost up; she had to finish it soon.

It was hard to tell through his mask, but when he chuckled, she could hear a smirk in it. "Touche."

He dove back in with a two-handed jab aimed for her hip. If it landed, it could inhibit her mobility. She twisted her lower body to let his hands skim past by a hair's breadth. It took a second to bounce the ball of her left foot off the ground, redirecting an explosive amount of momentum into her leg, spearheaded by her knee. That knee hit the Copy Nin's collarbone with a dull _thwack_ , and she heard the breath escape from his lungs in a great whoosh. When he staggered to a stop, she knew she would only have a second to spare.

He stumbled, gasping for air. His concentrated jab fell apart, his arms slackening. She replanted her left foot and swung her momentum back, raising up the other leg to land a kick square in his gut, which sent him slamming into the hard-packed ground on his back. Dust swirled up around him.

"Knock down," she said, waving her hand as the signal to the rest of her team. In this sort of sparring game, the round was over when one person went down. That was when one side rotated clockwise—whichever side the losing party was on.

Tsuki glanced to her left, where Hana was fighting on her side. There wasn't much to see through the henge and the mask, and that left Tsuki wondering if she'd even been paying attention. She had better be; Tsuki was about to try something.

Kakashi-taichou was beginning to retrieve his lost oxygen, lying on his back with his hands rested on his chest in resignation. Tsuki approached, and planted a hand on her hip as she stood over him.

"I'd say you've been burned, but puns aren't really my thing," she grumbled, and then offered him a hand.

He stared at her a moment, before a short laugh escaped him. That was a good sign. At least, for her demonstration. Still a little out of breath, he reached up to accept her help. "Nicely done," he said.

She helped him back to his feet with minimal effort expelled, and as he regained his bearings, just before she let go, she reinforced her grip with her other hand, placed gently on the back of his, effectively clasping his long fingers in her own delicate ones.

From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Frog. She was watching. Finally.

Then Tsuki let go, and folded her arms over her chest, emphasizing her hips a bit more than usual with the action. After all, a flirt was only as good as its follow-through. "I win. It's your move," she told him, while also hoping Hana understood her insinuation.

A glance revealed the younger girl to be clenching her transformed fists tight, her knuckles straining beneath the black fabric of her gloves. Was she actually thinking this through? No. Probably making some mental affirmation that she was 'totally gonna do this' or something sentimental and overly dramatic like that.

Kakashi caught his breath with one last, deep inhale, and then glanced around to the others. "That's the last down, isn't it? We've gone in a full circle."

"Yep," said Lizard from where he'd been sparring Mo-senpai. "What next, boss?"

The Hyuga looked like he was dragging. He gleamed with sweat and seemed more out of breath than Kakashi-taichou, despite having not been knocked down once during the exercise. He hadn't scored any knock downs either; he'd simply outlasted every round. How he could manage to still be raring to go was beyond Tsuki.

"Now we'll do some stand-ins," said the captain. He turned back to Tsuki, and when he spoke, she heard that smirk again. "And I think it's only fair that the person to score the final knock-down should get the first shot at playing client."

Tsuki sighed, letting her distaste show through as much as possible in the sound and the slouch of her shoulders, since she didn't have her dry expression to rely on. "You're going to make me pay for beating you by making me pretend to be helpless. Gee. Thanks."

His smirk had grown in his next sentence. "Now, why would I do something as petty as that?"

 _Because you're really just an arrogant twit under that cool facade and both of us know it._ "Gee, I dunno… Maybe I'm just special." She nudged him with her shoulder. He barely moved more than a steady shuffle of his feet, but he chuckled anyway.

Tsuki smirked. This next exercise would provide her with the best opportunities yet. If she was the helpless civilian who hired the big, strong ninjas, there were plenty of fun, 'romantic' situations that could come about as a result. After all, it was the civilians who romanticized _everything_.

"We'll run through the classic high-level target retrieval detail." Kakashi glanced to Tenzo as he spoke, who nodded in return, before the Copy Nin sent Hokamaru a scrutinizing look—at least, that was the air he projected. Facial cues were hard when everyone had yet to remove their masks. But that was part of the training, Kakashi-taichou had told them long ago. Better to learn to communicate wordlessly and without obvious hints. In a battlefield setting, this was how they would speak to one another. They didn't have the luxury of expression.

"Then we'll break for the afternoon. Think you can handle that?" the silver-haired man asked, with a hint of concern. After all, Lizard looked the worse for wear out of all of them.

The Hyuga snorted, planting his hands on his hips. "'Course. What do you take me for?"

That settled, Kakashi left well-enough alone, and cast Tsuki another cock-eyed look. "Well. Our civilian's on the field. Time to get in position. Lizard, you're the stand-in captain for the enemy squad."

"Yes, sir!" Sounding far too pleased with this whole thing, he marched over to Tsuki and grabbed her arm. "This way, hostage."

"Leave your hand there and you'll lose it," she deadpanned. And she meant it. She'd put him right out of the ANBU without a second thought.

He let go.

"Frog, Weasel," Kakashi continued, pointing the other members out, "you're with them. The rest of you, you're with me."

Thus, the two teams split up and gathered at opposite ends of the training green. Tsuki, seeing as she had no bearing on the strategy of the exercise, was able to remove her mask and stand in the back to watch the clouds as they rolled lazily by while she waited for them to develop their formation.

After a short minute, she saw someone approach in her peripheral, and lowered her gaze from the sky to Frog, who stood about a stride in front of her, her fists still clenched at her sides.

Tsuki raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"What are you doing?" the disguised girl asked in her false voice, sounding none too happy. Why, Tsuki couldn't begin to fathom.

So she shrugged instead. "Showing you how flirting really works."

Those small fists clenched harder. "Oh yeah!?"

"Uh… yes."

The other kunoichi seemed at a loss for words, as she stuttered and stammered and finally just gave a juvenile stomp of her foot. "Well, fine then!" With a humph, she spun on her heel, and stormed off like a child throwing a tantrum.

Tsuki frowned, and muttered to herself. "Well, that was weird…"

"Are you ready over there?" called Kakashi-taichou from his side.

Lizard broke from his little attempt at a three-man huddle and shot the team captain a confident thumbs up. "Ready when you are!"

"Let's go, then!"

Tsuki, recognizing the start of the exercise, figured she had best get in character. She raised her hands without fervor, and gave them a pitiful flap. "Help me. Save me. I have been kidnapped. Ahhh."

This sent Lizard into a fit of undignified snorting. Even Itachi hid a giggle behind his mask. The bald temporary squad leader waved her down.

"That's not fair, Badger. No making us laugh!"

She readjusted her mask atop her head, steadying it, and gave him an unenthused stare. "I wasn't trying to."

That was all the chitchat they got in before the conflict began. Suzume and Tenzo came out first from the opposite team, acting as first responders. Their jobs were to prevent any imminent threats to the client - or, she supposed in the case of a rescue operation, the target.

The Water user and the Wood user worked decently well together. Tenzo created a long sort of shoot with his wood, down which Suzume sent a torrent of raging water, utilizing the natural laws of physics to push the 'enemy' back as well as soak the ground. Mo-senpai then used that wet ground to form an Earth Dragon Bomb, which shot a series of high-velocity projectiles of hard-packed mud at Hokamaru and his little team. Thanks to his distraction at her snarky comments, Lizard was taken down quickly, and for the moment, glued to the marshy terrain.

"Hey!" he cried, trying to pull himself loose from ground that didn't want to let go. "That's cheating!"

"All's fair in love and war," Tsuki droned, noncommittal despite the very slight smirk she allowed on her face. It was funny, watching him wrestle with wet dirt.

Then Itachi jumped in front of Tsuki, formed a series of hand signs, and shouted in his small voice, "Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!" to release the iconic Uchiha fire attack. The giant ball of flames roiled toward Tenzo and Suzume's waterlogging contraption and, while it couldn't burn it due to the wood being soaked itself, the force of the fireball's impact shattered it to splinters. Both the Wood user and Water user jumped back to avoid getting hit with debris.

"Nice one, Weasel!" Hokamaru said from the ground.

"Don't congratulate him yet!" Hana leapt over the young Uchiha to meet Kakashi, who had been attempting to use the cloud of smoke and steam created by the fireball as cover for his approach. She withdrew her katana, the blade sending a flash of reflected light across Kakashi's mask, and with a savage cry, she leapt toward him like a bull to the charge.

Unfortunately, an explosive, direct approach was nothing to a lithe, agile Lightning user. It was far too similar to his own natural fighting style. He would be able to see through every strike and know how to counter.

But Frog obviously didn't think of these things.

Kakashi had to dodge only twice before he knocked Frog's sword out of her hand with a solid swipe of his armguard, then using the same rotating motion to turn, duck, and knock her feet out from under her in one fell swoop of his heel. Frog crashed to the ground, and the team captain jumped over her to continue his beeline toward his target.

Itachi was the last line of defense. He planted his feet, ready to meet the Copy Nin head on, only to be forced into motion by the approach of several tendrils of animate wood. They coiled and slithered in their pursuit of the young Uchiha, directed by Tenzo several paces away. Itachi dodged and weaved, but left Tsuki open for rescuing in the process. Kakashi-taichou vaulted over the wood with effortless ease and dashed over to her, the 'civilian hostage'. With fluid motion and no hesitation, he scooped her up bridal-style and flash-jumped to the nearest open space away from the fighting.

"That's it!" Hokamaru exclaimed, still trying to escape the suction of the mud pit. "Exercise done! Somebody get me outta here…"

Kakashi set Tsuki down as the rest of the members regrouped. The Hatake didn't exactly project an air of satisfaction, and Tsuki could sense his disappointment. She didn't blame him.

"For Team Ro, mission is a success," he said with a sort of simmering exasperation. "For the enemy, the mission is a complete failure."

She now had another opportunity for a hint. It wasn't the best of moments, considering his suddenly soured mood, but if she played it right, it might lighten it a bit. He did take his training so seriously…

Tsuki did a half-hearted impression of a love-struck teenage girl, clasping her hands and cuddling them up under her chin with a bat of her lashes. "Yay. My hero. I am saved." She latched onto his bicep and hugged herself close to his side, like a child to a stuffed bear. Taking short, involuntary note, she wasn't terribly shocked at how solid the corded muscle felt under her fingertips. It paid off to be a man in the military.

 _Women don't get so lucky, with our higher natural fat percentage… Bah._

She felt his toned shoulder jerk with a stifled chuckle. He hid it and hid it well because he was trying to be intimidating, but at least it worked, and Frog got another good tip. One of the best and fastest way to a man's heart—aside from his stomach—was through his amusement.

"That was pathetic, you three," he said to the others, keeping up the angry-taichou tone and mincing no words. Tsuki, however, detected a lower tint of darkness than before. Her job done, she released his arm. "Lizard, your leadership was nonexistent. And where was your teamwork? None of you made any effort to collaborate with each other. Even you, Weasel. I would've expected more from all of you."

Itachi hung his head. Frog, having dragged herself up off the ground and now massaged her tailbone, had the decency to keep her head down, despite a snort of irritation. Mo-senpai helped Hokamaru out of the mud, while the Hyuga simply looked awkward and avoided looking Kakashi-taichou in the eye.

Tsuki kept her place at the Copy Ninja's side, having not been dismissed yet, and lost track of his scolding after that. He spoke of teamwork and cooperation, like he usually did, and her mind drifted due to the fact that she had heard this sermon a dozen times already and could remember every repeated phrase off the top of her head. Along with her mind, her gaze wandered, over the clouds, the shifting tree boughs, a lazy butterfly floating over the chaotic mess that was now the training grounds, and finally, to Frog, who happened to get in the way of her view to the butterfly.

The other kunoichi appeared to have stopped paying attention to Kakashi as well, and stared right at Tsuki. Animosity rippled from her in waves. The latter frowned a little, and tilted her head with a bit of her confusion. What was the glare for?

Then, the Yaseino had the gall to give her a discrete point of her index finger, followed by a firm punch of her fist to her palm.

Tsuki's mouth went a little slack in her moment of initial shock, before she schooled her features back into indifference.

Was that little girl actually threatening her?

And for what?

The answer came like a soft whisper in her ear. The childish kunoichi couldn't comprehend that Tsuki had been subtly helping her. The ignorant little wench actually felt _threatened_ by her. Possessive over a man that wasn't even hers to claim and, in Tsuki's opinion, was far, far out of her league. But Tsuki had ignored that and gone to all the effort to give the brat some examples of how to handle the situation, and for what?

Served her right for putting effort into something for once.

Well. Tsuki allowed her frown to furrow her brow. If this hopeless schoolgirl thought a juvenile threat like that was going to win her nonexistent rights to their captain back, she was sorely mistaken.

Because never let it be said that Tsuki Busho was anything if not spiteful.

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 _A/N: Yes. Yes, this is meant to be satire. XP Heaven forbid this drama be taken seriously in a story like this one..._


	25. Nightmares: In The Dark

**Nightmares: In The Dark**

 **Date Posted: 7/4/16**

 **Word Count: 815**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **akirasatsuna: Thank you so much! :D I've always really enjoyed writing action scenes, and so after lots of practice, I've been told by others that I've managed to get good at it. XP**

 **fluffpenguin: I bet Kakashi could in a real battle setting. But in tamer practice routines, anybody would hold back a little. Plus, the point of the exercise was not to 'win', per se, but to knock your opponent off their feet. :) So just because Kakashi got knocked down once doesn't mean that, in a real battle setting, he would've lost.  
And goodness, really? XD I was worried people would be completely against the idea of a love triangle, satire or no... You'll have to keep reading to find out how that goes, however. ;)  
**

 **Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites, guys! :D Hope you enjoy this next installment.**

 **~Penelope**

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 **WARNING: Allusion to rape.  
**

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 _The dark reached out with dripping talons from confines of the alleyway, and no matter how she tried to run, it always caught her. Always. Always. It coiled itself around her waist, her thighs, her collar, and dragged her into its depths, swallowing her up._

 _She knew what it wanted._

 _Three of them. One stood back and watched. The other two dragged her through the gravel and swallowed her whole._

 _The darkness tore at her clothes and her skin, and set fire within her gut, burning her from the inside out. Its claws raked her to the bone, and its ghoulish red eyes—dozens, dozens—watched her hungrily, turned up in a hideous sort of invisible smile. Dagger teeth gnashed. It gnawed on her._

 _She fought. She always fought. But not for very long. Why fight when you knew beyond the shadow of any doubt that nothing could save you now?_

 _The dark whispered to her. It called her lovely. Sweet. Delicious. And it poured more fire over her skin, and she cried._

 _She tried not to. But the tears came unbidden._

 _The fire hurt. But it also made her shiver. Some deep, dark, twisted, traumatized part of her wanted to see more. The dark was primal and fierce. Some tribal instinct reached out to absorb the pain and cover it up with pleasure, and she fought that harder than she fought the dark._

 _She didn't want it. Any of it._

 _Then, with a howl of wind, once the shadows had used her like yesterday's plaything, they retreated and fled away into the cracks and crevices of the brick walls around her. A lingering tendril caressed her cheek, kissed her swollen lips, and then at last was gone._

 _She hurt. She hurt everywhere. Blood pooled beneath her limbs. She knew it was hers, but pretended it wasn't._

 _Pain, pain, pain. Throb, throb, throb. Hurt, hurt, hurt._

 _Sensei had watched, and done nothing._

 _Then he'd held her close, his breath like a wave of alcohol, and finally left. Left her to wallow in her new and very sudden brokenness._

 _The foolish, naive part of her wondered why anyone would do something this… primitive. This disgusting. Her violated body and mind clashed in a shower of sparks, and neither could make sense of the other._

 _She needed help. But she couldn't stand._

 _What would happen to her? Who would help her, want her, in this state? Bloody, beaten, and half-naked. She was wretched._

 _She shivered. She shook. She sobbed._

 _She felt like a broken toy._

 _Some ninja she was, letting something like this happen to her. A devil somewhere was having a laugh. To make her fail the Chuunin exams, and then this. And now, not even her parents were around to rescue her from the dark. They'd left her._

 _The wind changed, shifted, and blew warmth at her feet._

 _He had come._

 _She remembered him. After all, he came every time._

 _His name was Mo._

 _He billowed like a ghost, wafting in the shadows with an intangible grace. His ivory mask hid his face, but she already knew what he looked like. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. He had a nice face._

 _But he was a man._

 _Men were evil._

 _Men did bad things to sad thirteen-year-old girls._

 _Mo just stood there, a grey cloud amidst which she sat, shivering in the damp cold. The soulless eyes of his mask gazed upon her without empathy. Distant. Empty. Unaffected._

 _She wished she could be like that._

 _Then maybe the hurt would go away._

 _Finally, she let him help. He did not have black darkness like the sort that had attacked her. Mo's darkness was soft and sad and grey, neither black nor white. Kind of like how she felt now._

 _His formless wings draped over her gaunt shoulders and hid her away from the world. It covered her nakedness and warmed her chilled bones until she felt enough strength to stand. Then, legs and arms still slick with her own blood, she followed after him._

 _Then she blinked._

 _Mo disappeared._

 _Time started over._

 _The dark's claws raked her in once more, and it all begun again._

The pounding of Tsuki's own heart woke her to damp streaks on her face, sweat coating her back, and salt in the corners of her mouth. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. _Not again, not again._

No, it was not happening again.

Yellow light greeted her, pulsing from the nightlight just two feet from the edge of her bed, a beacon on the face of the sparse wall. Staring at it until it burned its presence into her eyes, she buried herself in her comforter to hide herself from the shadows creeping in her peripheral vision. She choked on sobs that she tried desperately to quell.

The dark…

She could still feel its fire.


	26. My Crush, Kakashi: Frog vs Badger

**My Crush, Kakashi: Frog vs. Badger**

 **Date Posted: 7/11/16**

 **Word Count: 1228**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **fluffpenguin: No, no happy ending for Tsuki... Mo's felt a sense of closure for some of his problems. Tsuki... hasn't. And good, I'm glad the 'love triangle' doesn't bother you. XP You'll have to let me know what you think of how it turns out.**

 **silberstreif: You'll have to keep reading to learn more about what happened to her. All will become clear later.**

 **Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! ^_^ Let me know what you think of this next installment!**

 **~ Penelope**

* * *

A nice, long, hot shower sounded good for once, but Tsuki had something to take care of first. She had a plan, and a fairly good one if she dared say so herself. One's options were limited when one was dealing with someone as childish and petty as Hana Yaseino, but thankfully, circumstances and coincidence had come together to give her the perfect opportunity to combat that pettiness with some of her own. Completely justified, of course. If Hana was going to be childish, then it was only fair that Tsuki deliver a point on her level.

This was what led to Tsuki waiting for Kakashi-taichou to finish removing his armor and packing it into his locker, after the team had retired to the bunker. The whole room stank of sweaty men and damp leather. Tsuki was used to the smell at this point, though. Or at least, she could no longer justify wasting the effort to complain about it. After all, who was she to complain when she could barely dredge up the motivation to shower regularly herself?

After all, until this evening, she'd never had anyone to impress.

But tonight was different. She had a point to make.

"Taichou," she said, catching Kakashi before he disappeared to the showers in the next room. He'd stripped down to his sleeveless black under-armor, pants, and shin bindings, and had a towel slung over his shoulder. He paused in his moseying, jerking his gaze to her like she'd snapped him out of some mental musings. It was one of those rare times he'd removed his hitai-ate as well, though his unruly silver fringe obstructed his Sharingan instead.

"Hm?" he hummed from behind his face mask.

Tsuki glanced over his shoulder at those still bustling around the locker room. Already, Hana was watching them closely, a frown twisting her dopey, henged face. Itachi was also watching, and Suzume-in the back-seemed to be trying to watch without making it obvious.

She looked back at Kakashi. "I'll be going home for the evening, but I have a request to make before I do."

The captain nodded his consent for her to continue, and so she did.

"So, basically, my psychologist gave me a troublesome assignment," she grumbled in pretext, "for which I have to 'hang out' with somebody while off duty or something like that." She sighed; feigning quiet exasperation wasn't very difficult for her, seeing as it was only half-feigned. "That said, I want you to have dinner with me."

His silver eyebrows rose a little, but he didn't react much beyond that. Behind him, though, Hana's jaw and fists clenched hard, and Tsuki actually had to try not to smirk.

Kakashi scratched the back of his neck, ruffling his silver mop with another hum before he gave a sloppy one-armed shrug. "Um... okay."

She nodded, and tried even harder not to glance at Frog, whom she could practically feel fuming from her corner of the room. "Tonight. 19:00. That new barbecue place, Yakiniko." Her job done, she moved her feet and moseyed toward the exit.

"Wait, tonight?" Kakashi turned to watch her go.

She gave a noncommittal wave without glancing back in response. "Thanks for the favor. I owe you one."

There was no need to give him-or anyone, for that matter-any chance to react. If they felt the need, they could do so whether she was there or not, and in the meantime, she actually had some preparation to do. If she was going to rub salt in Hana's poor, chaffed ego, then she would have to put a little more effort than usual into it, as unfortunate as that was. It would be a drag, but also probably the most amusing thing that had happened in months. Drama was annoying, but boredom was worse.

First, she had to get home and shower. Then she would have to dig through her closet for something decent to wear. Nothing too troublesome, but seeing as Hana was in no way going to keep her nose out of this, it had to be something just enough to make her point. Civvies, but not too casual.

She was pretty sure she had a little black dress in that closet somewhere...

"Hey, you!"

Tsuki paused in the middle of the hallway, and glanced behind her. So, Frog was at the 'hey you' stage. In which she pretended to forget the name of the current target of her wrath. She felt her lip curl ever so slightly.

Hana, still henged as a teenage boy, planted her hands on her hips and scowled a mighty scowl. "You're really pushing it."

Tsuki raised an eyebrow. "How's that?"

"You know how!"

"Pardon me for intruding on your little schoolgirl crush, but the rest of us have actual lives." _Meaning, I don't have the time or energy to waste dealing with your melodramatic caterwauling. And it hurts just to watch it happen._

Hana scoffed, and pointed dramatically at her. "That's rich, coming from you!"

Tsuki sighed. "Yes, it is. That should show you just how low my opinion of your behavior is. Especially when the only thing that changed was you seeing his face."

That made the younger kunoichi turn beet red, and Tsuki knew she'd been spot on in her deductions. That was no surprise. It could be such a bore, being the intelligent one... As such, one was rarely ever surprised.

"I-I..." The chestnut-headed ninja stammered and sputtered, fortitude wavering. It was such an odd sight, considering the context and Hana's disguise. "Th-That's not-"

"How droll," Tsuki moaned, rubbing a hand over her face. _Things to do, things to do..._ "You march out here like a bull after a red cape in the middle of spring, but when faced with pure logic, any defense goes out the window. Only further evidence of your incompetence."

"But you're-"

"I'm what?" Tsuki shoved her hands into her pockets, settling in for an argument that was going to be far too easy to make. "I'm completing an assignment that my therapist gave me. I'm sure that's a foreign concept to you, but some of us actually do what the psychologist says. It's a pain in the neck, but we do it. Who ever said I was doing otherwise?"

Hana scowled once more, regaining a hint of her previous ire. "Why Kakashi-senpai, huh? After I already said-"

"First," Tsuki held up an index finger, "you said 'fine then'. Second, I asked Kakashi- _taichou_ ," she emphasized the word, considering Hana had picked up that odd, very noticeable new honorific, "because he's the most reasonable and intelligent of our members, and he knows what it's like to have a pain-in-the-butt psychoanalyst on your tail. And in case you missed that back there, he agreed of his own free will. Case closed."

"But-!"

But nothing. Tsuki was already walking away. There was no need to stand there any longer to rehash what was already established fact. Behind her, Frog stumbled and stuttered for something else to say, but only wound up trailing off into a stupefied silence. That alone made Tsuki smirk, satisfaction curling around her ribs like bindweed.

Logic: 1. Ridiculously childish infatuation based on superficial attraction: 0.

Apparently, that was Phase 1. On to Phase 2?


	27. Nightmares: A Root of Anachronism

**Nightmares: A Root of Anachronism**

 **Date Posted: 7/19/16**

 **Word Count: 868**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES**

 **silberstreif: Yes. Genius, Kakashi is. Social butterfly, Kakashi is not. XP**

 **fluffpenguin: I'm glad to see you so into this! XD It really helps to know somebody's enjoying it.**

 **myself: yes. Frog is a monster. This... is basically the bottom line of her part in this fic. XD**

 **Frog: Yeah, it really does help when there's only two characters present, especially if they're opposite genders. Then there's very little chance for the reader to get lost in the pronouns. XP Therefore, it's that much easier to write.**

 **Thanks all for the reviews! And thanks as well to everyone who faved/followed. Y'all are awesome.**

 **Hope you enjoy this installment! Let me know what you think in a review!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

 _The water in the tank was warm._

 _But not in a pleasant sort of way. It was warm like the taste of a glass of milk at room temperature. Like wet bread heated in a microwave. Warm like the moment a fan breaks down, and in one terrible second, the shift in the humid air over your head comes to a sluggish stop. Then you're left in stifling heat that makes it hard to breathe._

 _That was the water in the tank._

 _Tenzo was suspended in it—water warm enough, acclimated enough to his body, that it was almost as if there was no water at all. As if the various tubes and wires kept him in nothing but open air. Water or air, the result was the same: that feeling of helplessness. No control. Nothing rooting him anywhere. Alone._

 _But not alone. A face stared at him from the other side of the glass._

 _This was not Orochimaru's face. No, that vile creature's face, he knew that better than he ever wished he could. This man was pale, yes, but not like death. And rather than long, limp strands of ebony, this person sported a head of wild silver that stuck out in every direction except down._

 _Heterochromic eyes watched him with a sort of lazy curiosity._

 _The curiosity hurt._

 _Others crowded around the observer, all clambering to get a glimpse of the tank. A few children crooned with wonder. Somebody held up a phone and the flash of the camera momentarily blinded him. He blinked rapidly, his eyelids sliding between his eyes and the water._

 _One person slipped past the silver-haired man and reached up to knock on the glass. The sound reverberated through the tank, echoing in his ears and making his head throb._

 _"Please," said a slimy voice to his right, muffled through the tank, "don't touch the display."_

 _Orochimaru appeared from his peripheral, and strode up beside him, taking a stance just beside the tank, almost protectively. The offender, a young chestnut-headed boy, stiffened and shrank back into the crowd._

 _"He is rather delicate," the snake Sannin finished, turning so that his golden eyes settled on he who floated in the tank._

 _"Wood style, huh," said the heterochromic bystander, his voice a drone of no impression. "That would be a feat… if you could prove it."_

 _Orochimaru scoffed. "Ahh, a cynic. How nice. Well, all you have to do is ask."_

 _Then the snake-man turned on his heel to face the tank, and held up a hand. "Go on, then. Demonstrate for us."_

 _Tenzo started. Then he deflated. Not again._

 _Every time he did this, he only felt every bit the roadside attraction that he was. That he didn't want to be. That he had no choice but to be._

 _He held up his hands, sluggish in the water, and clasped them in a simple hand sign. From the earth at the base of the tank, the soil pushed up and broke apart to let free a dozen twisting tendrils of wood, roots that coiled and spun until they found purchase on the tank's outer wall. The roots spiraled around the tank, wrapping up the bottom half, before he felt all of his energy spent on that simple technique. Rather than waste his chakra trying to impress his creator, he let the sign drop, his arms floating limp once more._

 _The stranger's eyebrows had risen, and he stared with renewed interest. "Ah… interesting."_

 _"Indeed." Orochimaru smirked. "It took much trial and error, but at last, I was able to perfect the mutation. The long-dead technique of the First Hokage is alive once more."_

 _The stranger hummed. "Does he have a name?"_

 _Orochimaru shot him a short, confused glance. "Hm? …Oh, him. No. None of the subjects were given names beyond the numbers we used to file them. Why name something that could die at any moment?"_

 _But he wasn't dying. Was he? All the others had died… He'd watched them go, one by one. Wished he could go with them. Wished for anything beyond this twisted cell that was his world._

 _"Mm." Humming seemed to be this silver-haired man's preferred method of reply. He stared, hands in his pockets, for one long and painful second, before he turned, angling his body away from the tank. "I will have to inform the Hokage of your success. I'm sure he'll be pleased."_

 _"I'm sure," oozed Orochimaru. "Do give him my regards. Perhaps put in a good word for me."_

 _The silver-haired man snorted. "We'll see."_

 _"Good day to you… Hatake-san."_

 _The young jounin nodded, and then turned and walked away. He pushed through the crowd as darkness encroached on the edge of the tank dweller's vision, and was soon lost from sight._

No, _he thought, wishing with all of his might that he could cry aloud,_ no, don't leave me here. Please…

Taichou… Senpai…

 _Help me._

Tenzo woke to warm water in his eyes. Only this water, salty and thin, fell from his lashes to streak freely down his face. And even with awareness, he struggled to rein them in, to stop their flow.

He was still alone.

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 ** _Anachronism: /əˈnakrəˌnizəm/ noun. a thing belonging or appropriate to a period other than that in which it exists, especially a thing that is conspicuously old-fashioned._**


	28. My Crush, Kakashi: Stupid Girly Habits

**My Crush, Kakashi: Stupid Girly Habits**

 **Date Posted: 7/24/16**

 **Word Count: 1797**

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 **A/N: Please keep in mind, this chapter was written in this particular style intentionally. All the head-hopping and omniscient POV was meant to give it a dorky bedtime story sort of feel.**

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **fluffpenguin: Yeah... I felt like that would be something of Tenzo's nightmares for sure. XP**

 **Thanks all! Hope you enjoy this installment; let me know what you think of it!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

Not so long ago, in a village not so far away, there lived two kunoichi. Both were members of an elite group known as the ANBU Black Ops, and as such, were among the deadliest warriors of the village known as Konohagakure, or the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Their skills were such that they were placed on one of the most note-worthy teams in the ANBU, Team Ro, the village leader's personal guard. They served under the famous Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake, as his loyal subordinates.

One was young, and quite small (though none dared tell her that to her face). With her short chestnut hair and flat physique and freckled face, the only thing that she had ever considered pretty were her vibrant green eyes—the ones her late father had always so admired. Everything else, she kept hidden with a Transformation Jutsu that made her appear as a young man, for that was the only way others took her seriously. This kunoichi's name was Hana Yaseino.

The other wasn't as young, but was still in her prime. She was tall, full-figured, and leggy. But she wasn't one to care. In fact, she found her natural beauty to be quite annoying, and often cursed it. She kept her hair short and shaggy to avoid any more attention than she already got. She wore baggy clothes. She kept numerous weapons on her person, and she avoided dark alleyways—for harsh experience had taught her what happened to a pretty girl when she didn't. Her name was Tsuki Busho.

Both were warriors in their own right and both took pride in their positions.

After a series of unorthodox events, Hana decided to set her sights on their team captain. She had seen his handsome face, he had rescued her, and something had been set alight in her. She had decided that it must be love.

But love was something she did not know how to address, and the cold, aloof Tsuki had thrown a wrench in her efforts. The curvaceous woman had purposefully set out to entangle the very same man in her wiles, and she had the assets to aid her, where Hana did not.

Tsuki was taking Kakashi to a cafe in one of the quieter sectors of the village, on a night that was usually one when the team got together at one of the nicer restaurants to exercise their nonexistent social skills with one another.

Now, Tsuki was more than happy with the change in schedule. She liked nothing less than false interaction with a small crowd. She still expected said falseness from her evening to come, but she took comfort in the fact that she would only have to endure the company of a single man. And he wasn't much of a talker himself.

When the 'couple' entered the restaurant, they seemed blissfully unaware of the pair of green eyes watching them from across the street.

Hana kept a close eye on them, and kept them in sight at all times.

After agreeing that they would be splitting the bill, Tsuki and Kakashi adjourned to a corner booth, out of the way. Tsuki preferred the quieter nooks, with her back to a wall and a straight line of sight to the door.

Hana, in the meantime, fumed. The ravenette had actually bothered to dress to kill, and it was painfully obvious that Tsuki outclassed her in every way. The short black dress and crimson sash hugged the woman's body in all the right places, and showed off her long legs and feet shod in classy red flats. Hana had seen the expression on Kakashi's masked face when the temptress revealed herself. The admiration was obvious, and it crushed Hana's already-fragile self-esteem.

She could never compete with that… But it didn't mean she had to leave Kakashi to his unfortunate fate! He deserved better than the claws of this witch. Hana was certain that Tsuki was only doing this to spite her, anyway.

She watched as they made casual conversation after ordering their food. They were quieter, less expressive than most, but she could tell things took a turn for the worse when something Kakashi said made Tsuki's eyebrows raise. Then the witch's eyes squinted at the corners, and her full lips quirked up at the edges. She was laughing.

Hana had never seen the woman laugh.

Tsuki, on the other hand, was beginning to find Kakashi's blunt, direct, and rather morbid sense of humor rather refreshing. It wasn't everyday another person could meet her on her level. When she said things like 'I've never been here before, so don't freak out if we get food poisoning and die', most would've been disturbed and hastily looked for an exit line.

Apparently not Kakashi. Instead, he'd retorted with a simple 'wouldn't that be exciting; I've never died before'. And she laughed.

It had been a while.

Hana did her best to stay quiet as she kicked at the dirt of the street outside, watching Kakashi fall right into the she-demon's trap. "Curse you, Badger!" she growled through clenched teeth. Then she moved around the building to a window that offered a more strategic view.

Tsuki was not unaware of Hana's presence. She'd spotted the girl on their way in. For someone who constantly disguised their gender, Hana was terrible at masking her chakra signature. And while she began to allow herself to enjoy the casual conversation with her company, she didn't allow it to completely drain her focus from her goal. She still had a point to make. She would show this child that it was she who was incompetent, and thus prove herself the superior.

On the night went, and Hana watched in horror as Tsuki began working her devil's magic-lounging back in the booth's bench seat, draping one long arm over the back and arching her back just so, drawing attention to her torso; crossing her legs, so that a glimpse of her bare knee could be seen over the edge of the table; keeping her thick lashes low, hooded over her eyes. And she spoke with deliberation, the movement of her mouth meant to entrance.

And Hana sniveled as she realized she stood no chance. And yet, she wouldn't dare leave.

The waiter brought their food, and left after a short bow. When Kakashi moved to touch his mask and hesitated, Hana realized she would have to act.

Tsuki had never seen his face before. And she was staring now. The fiendish manipulator was just trying to catch a coveted glimpse of his face! How shallow!

It would not happen on Hana's watch. She gripped a kunai between her fingers and, as Kakashi moved to remove his mask to eat, she threw it with as much strength and accuracy as she could muster.

The knife whipped past Tsuki's chin, close enough to cut. Tsuki stiffened. The weapon thunked into the wall beside her, almost inaudible above the crowded cafe noise. Nobody noticed.

Tsuki glanced at the kunai, and then in the direction it came from. Through one of the far windows, she spotted the top of chestnut hair, and furious green eyes glaring invisible daggers at her. Hana drew a line with her index and middle fingers, from her eyes to the she-devil. She was watching them.

Tsuki sighed. She rolled her eyes. And she just barely hid the kunai under the table before Kakashi sighed with satisfaction. With a start, she realized that he had already finished eating. His food had disappeared.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," said he, setting his chopsticks aside. "Coffee's a little questionable; that might be the avenue they're using to poison customers."

Tsuki snorted, but she was too busy internally snarling at Hana from ruining her chance at catching up with the rest of the team.

"You're bleeding," he said.

Tsuki raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Your chin is bleeding."

Oh. The kunai. _D*** that Frog…_ "Really? I must've cut myself…" She shrugged, dismissing the subject. He didn't push it.

When the waiter came to refill their drinks, the first moment Kakashi's head was turned, Tsuki flung the kunai right back where it came from. A satisfying squawk came from outside.

It was loud enough to draw both the waiter and Kakashi's attention. The waiter hurried off the investigate, and Kakashi turned an inquisitive stare on Tsuki.

"What was that?"

Tsuki feigned disinterested obliviousness, and shrugged again. "How should I know?"

"You threw something."

"Did I?"

A quite loud expletive interrupted once again, and this time, a ball of henged fury marched through the front door of the cafe. Hana stormed past the other patrons, right up to their booth, and pointed a dramatic finger in Tsuki's face. She had had enough!

"You could have killed me!" she declared, enraged, her face red and hair flying.

Tsuki replied with indifference. "If I wanted to do that, you'd be dead by now."

"As if you could touch me!"

"I wouldn't have to. You wouldn't feel a thing, either; I'd make it nice and painless and quiet. Unlike yourself."

Hana clenched her fist. "What'd you say!?"

"Just the fact that you feel the need to ask that demonstrates your incompetence."

Hana drew her fist back. Tsuki rose to her feet, towering over the younger girl. It was enough to make the latter hesitate.

But then she strengthened her resolve, and threw her punch.

Tsuki ducked under it and drove her elbow into the younger girl's abdomen, making her wheeze and gag. Without giving her time to recover, the woman met Hana's collar with her knee and sent Hana reeling. Most of the patrons had stopped in their regular business to watch by now.

Hana staggered, and then turned her backward flail into forward momentum, snarling as she lunged.

Then killing intent pulsed nearby and stopped both of them in their tracks.

"What is going on here!?" said the familiar, authoritative tone of their taichou.

He stood over them, a tic throbbing in his temple and his expression exasperated beyond words. There was a hint of a blush on his face, as well; this was thanks to the embarrassment of having his subordinates act like children in a public location.

He turned to the waiter, who'd returned to watch, and the man paled and trembled.

"Excuse us," said the captain, far too pleasant for his current mood. His eye closed, and curved upward with a hidden smile. "We'll be taking this outside now."

At that moment, both women knew they'd been found out. And they were in for an earful.

The moral of this story has yet to be discovered. Perhaps Kakashi-taichou will clear it up for us soon.

The End…?


	29. Nightmares: I've Got Two Faces

**Nightmares: I've Got Two Faces (Bloody's the One I'm Not)**

 **Date Posted: 8/4/16**

 **Word Count: 852**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
**

 **fluffpenguin: Kakashi can be oblivious at times. XP He was busy eating. And Frog's not a _total_ idiot. Sometimes.**

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 _ **Warning: this chapter contains non-explicit violence and gore.**_

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 _He didn't know where he was going. But he didn't have to. Taichou knew. That was all that mattered. All Otter had to do was fall in line._

 _He wasn't Suzume. No, he had a different name. He knew it wasn't his real name, but here, it was. He wasn't himself in this dream. He was somebody else. He wore a stranger's skin._

 _"Otter, fall in with Cat," said Wolf from his place at the head of the line. "We're nearing the target."_

 _His codename hadn't changed. He was still Otter. But he wasn't Suzume._

 _They were chasing a criminal. S-rank, the file said. A mass murderer with a psychotic bloodlust. Drowned in a white cloak stained red. The whole of Team Ro had been sent on the hunt. They followed each other's footsteps in the snow like wolves, a subconscious tribute to their captain._

 _With frigid clouds of mist puffing from the mouths of their masks, they advanced through the great trees of Konoha, and soon came upon a clearing showered with crimson rain._

 _A man at the center of the open space drove his katana through the chest of the last shinobi standing, and ripped it out through his side. The man's heart and lungs shredded, he dropped like a puppet cut from its strings._

 _Then the blood-drenched killer turned his crazed grin on them._

 _It was Suzume._

 _"Suzume Ochimashita," Wolf growled, coming to a halt a healthy distance from the criminal, who simply sneered back. "It's been a long time."_

 _"Oh?" Bloody Suzume twirled his blade, sending showers of blood off the gleaming tip. "I hadn't noticed."_

 _Some red droplets spattered across Wolf's mask. The ANBU captain didn't respond._

 _Otter could only stare, watching himself saunter casually toward them with a devil-may-care smirk and blood drenching his frame._

 _No... No, this wasn't right._

 _"You've come to kill me, I presume?" Bloody Suzume plucked at the edge of his blade absently, as though a team of highly trained black ops agents weren't arrayed before him in full battle armor._

 _Wolf simply raised a hand. Team Ro moved forward as one, with their captain at the head of the pack._

 _Bloody Suzume just grinned. "Well. Come try it, then."_

 _His katana swept in a gleaming arc, faster than Otter's eye could register. Then Frog stumbled, the arm that gripped her berserker's staff separating cleanly from her body at the shoulder. Blood gushed from the stump, and both severed limb and staff hit the snow with matching thumps and the gruesome hiss of damaged veins. Frog screamed. The sound lasted a few mere seconds before the katana flashed again, and a gaping slit spilled blood from her throat. She fell limp._

 _Lizard came in next from Bloody Suzume's left, while Cat came from his right. They double-teamed well, synchronizing their hand signs in order to catch the S-rank criminal between a fire and water jutsu._

 _The jutsus barreled toward one another, and Bloody Suzume backflipped out of the way, straight toward the approaching form of Badger. She had three senbon pinched between her knuckles, ready to disable her target._

 _She never got the chance. Bloody Suzume added an extra flip, twisting over her head. Badger whirled to catch him before he could land in her blind spot, but his blade came down before him. Its razor tip cut deep into the base of her neck, driving down deep through her chest. She barely had time to gasp before the murderer gripped the wrist of her weapon arm, wrenched his sword free, and decapitated her with a twisted smile._

 _Lizard leapt from behind the body as it fell. He proceeded with a kunai, Byakugan activated. He thought he was ready for whatever came for him. Until that blinding katana came up, tip hooking on the kunai ring and jerking the Hyuga's arm up over his head. Then Bloody Suzume lashed at his throat with a bare hand, faster than a blink, and Otter could hear the windpipe shatter under the force of the blow. Lizard dropped. Bloody Suzume moved on to the others._

 _Panther was skewered with a water drill. The katana ran through Weasel's skull, destroying his eyes. Cat had his own wood shattered in his face, before Lizard's kunai embedded itself in his forehead. And Wolf, the last to fall, rushed forward with a Lightning Blade, only for Bloody Suzume to move ever so slightly aside at the last second, and the ANBU captain impaled himself on the waiting katana._

 _Otter watched. He couldn't do anything else. He was frozen._

 _Then Bloody Suzume turned to him, and smiled._

 _"Well? What do you have to say for yourself... Suzume?"_

Suzume Ochimashita ejected himself off his pillow with a shriek. His gaze darted like a rabbit's, around the darkened room, searching for blood, corpses, snow. But it was gone. His sparse bedroom had replaced them.

Otter took a deep breath, puffed it out, and raked his fingers through his hair to still their shaking.

It was a dream. Just a dream. That sort of thing could never happen...

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, I am aware that Suzume likely could not single-handedly take out the most elite team in Konoha in its entirety. But keep in mind that this is Suzume's nightmare, where things don't have to make sense.  
**


	30. My Crush, Kakashi: Revelation of the Man

**My Crush, Kakashi: Revelation of the Man in Question**

 **Date Posted: 8/12/16**

 **Word Count: 1868**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **fluffpenguin: Heh, I can safely say Suzume is no narcissist. XP He's just scared of what he's capable of. He's scared that one day, he won't care about killing. That one day, he might even decide he likes it.**

 **Youkai Ryuu: Thank you so much! :D And don't you worry; Kakashi angst is coming very soon. *evil chortle***

 **Big thanks to everyone that followed/faved! Hope y'all enjoy this next installment!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

Kakashi Hatake was not stupid.

Granted, he did stupid things on occasion. It happened. Everybody did it. But he was not stupid.

This did not mean that he could not feel like it. And at the moment, he indeed felt very, very stupid. Mostly because he had gotten himself into this mess, despite having sensed something off about the tension between Tsuki and Hana lately. They'd been unusually hostile toward one another in the past few days.

Now it had come to a head, and the realization had hit Kakashi like a brick between the eyes.

It had made him blush. He hated that.

Thankfully, the cool of the evening that saturated Konoha under the light of a thousand stars helped to hide said-blush and cool his nerves. It was a brief moment of therapy that he needed. He of all people hadn't expected that he would have to deal with this sort of subject with his own subordinates—on a public street, no less.

But it could not be put off until they could return to the bunker. Not after Kakashi stepped outside the restaurant and found himself in unwanted company.

"Taichou!" said Hokamaru, first of a crowd that consisted of the rest of Team Ro, dressed in civvies and strolling leisurely along the avenue that just happened to pass by this place. If the Hyuga said a word about luck or coincidence, Kakashi swore he would… come up with some sort of retaliation at a later date.

 _Date…_ Kakashi shuddered at the word. He found his gaze returning to the two women following close behind him, and was reminded of the purpose of his retreat.

Tsuki and Hana had nearly had an all out brawl in a public place—over _him_.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to blush again, shudder again, or go hide somewhere for a week. It was like some cheesy scene from one of Master Jiraiya's novels.

Though, there weren't many scenes in those books that _weren't_ cheesy…

"Fancy meeting you here," said Hokamaru, a catlike smirk warping his features in the moonlight.

Kakashi scowled. He didn't need the predictable distraction right now.

"Don't glare at me!" Hana squawked behind him, and it wasn't hard to guess whom she was objecting to. "If you had kept your pretty little nose where it belonged-!"

"Excuse me?" Tsuki retorted, indignant. "Last I checked, you didn't own anybody here. I doubt the object of your not-so-subtle affections would appreciate being treated like a possession."

"Better than being treated like a worthless toy!" Hana blurted.

Kakashi twitched. This was ridiculous. He was done.

"That's enough!" he snapped and whirled to face the squabbling females. Both gave him the satisfaction of seeing them stiffen, pale, and then awkwardly avert their eyes in opposite directions. Tsuki looked to the right, across the mostly empty street and over the face of an aged fence. Hana looked to the left, into the light that streamed onto the road from the storefront windows of the restaurant they had just left behind.

"What sort of ANBU agents almost start a brawl in a public area?" Kakashi cast his glare to and fro between them. "What sort of ninja, who deal with death and war on a daily basis, start a shouting match over a single man? Hm? It's so pathetic, I honestly don't have the words."

Hana looked appropriately like a scolded dog. Tsuki, on the other hand…

"It's not my fault Frog's a moron," the older woman said, lifting her chin. Her eyes remained half-closed, bored and emotionless as usual, but defiance had brightened them.

Hana twitched. "I'm not a-"

"Quiet, Frog." Kakashi narrowed his eyes at Tsuki. "It's not _your_ job to make anybody aware of what you think of them. Especially in this sort of setting."

The raven-haired woman shrugged noncommittally. "I was bored."

That was never something you wanted to hear from an ANBU—that they were so bored, they resorted to unsavory methods of entertaining themselves. Behavior of that sort led to messy and dishonorable discharges…

"Bored?" Kakashi rubbed a hand over his face. _Hello, migraine; it's been a while…_ "And so you create drama for your own personal enjoyment."

"It's not as if there's anything better to do."

"Get a hobby."

Tsuki huffed. "I hate hobbies."

"That is _not my problem_." Kakashi, glancing back at the restaurant's close vicinity, then turned on his heel and retreated further into the street, away from the noise. He weaved through the small crowd that was his team, who all stood with bated breath, listening closely to the entire spectacle. Hei didn't stop until he'd reached the opposite gutter, and then turned again to find that Hana had followed. Tsuki strolled slowly after her, taking her time to mosey.

"My problem," Kakashi prepared to sum up, "is the fact that you were stupid and petty enough to actually act like this publicly."

"It isn't stupidity if it's intentional," Tsuki countered. "Intention implies thought, and thought is meditation. Meditation is strategy."

Kakashi sighed. He might as well be convincing a brick wall to loosen up a little. "I expected more from _both_ of you."

"Get used to disappointment," was the older kunoichi's reply.

Kakashi tried to keep his agitation in check—he really did. He managed to keep it to a loud grinding of his teeth and a clench of his fingers. But one thing that got under his skin, writhed and itched, was when he, for once, was being entirely serious—and the opposing party was not.

But he couldn't react. That was exactly what she wanted.

"Can I go home now?" Tsuki interrupted his mental placating, scratching lazily behind her ear.

After pushing away the offense and frustration, the one thought that refused to vacate Kakashi's mind was a remorseful one. But one that needed to be voiced.

"I will have to report this," he said. As much as it felt like a childish response, he as the team captain had the obligation to be sure his team was operating to the best of its abilities. And an episode like this was something that both Hana's and Tsuki's psychologists needed to know about.

If he hadn't stopped the fight before it began, who knew what would have happened? The women had gone at it as if civilians didn't surround them on every side. That merited at least a little concern. It seemed fair to alert them to the situation they'd landed themselves in.

Tsuki scoffed, a derisive sound that let Kakashi know just how much she agreed with his mental label of 'childish response'. Hana jerked her head up—she still looked like a teenage boy, Kakashi realized; that made having this conversation with them that much weirder.

"But senpai-!" she began in her falsetto.

He held up a hand. "It's not as if I'm recommending your resignation. Unlike you two, I'm willing to let petty things slide. But your behavior tonight is another matter. You put unarmed civilians at risk without a second thought. That's toeing a dangerous line for a pair of ANBU agents."

Again, Hana hung her henged head. Tsuki just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," the latter droned. She folded her arms over her chest, clasping her hands under her biceps. "Are you done?"

And still no effect. Kakashi sighed again. No use flogging a dead horse… "Yes. You're dismissed."

Without hesitation, Tsuki turned and stalked off, sighing heavily into the shadows that very slowly swallowed her up. A few tense seconds passed after she had gone, before Hokamaru let out a long, low whistle, breaking the tense silence.

"Wow… We walked into a hornet's nest," said the Hyuga.

Tenzo, scuffing a foot just behind him, murmured, "I _told_ you we should've left them alone…"

Mo and Suzume had nothing to offer. A short glance from Kakashi revealed that Itachi was not among them. The boy was likely at home in the Uchiha compound, finishing supper with his family and settling in for a quiet evening to himself—which is exactly what Kakashi wanted to be doing. But fortune had never smiled upon him.

"Senpai, I just want to say-" Hana started, raising a hand toward him.

Kakashi bit back an exasperated moan. "Not today, Frog… not today. Please. Just… go home. Maybe some other time…"

Her hand faltered, and lowered slowly back to her side. She nodded, averting her eyes to the ground. "Yes, sir…"

Kakashi then turned his attention to their audience, and resisted the urge to sigh again. His headache had reached a point of stasis just behind his left eye. "Sorry you had to see that… but I think I'm going home for the night."

"Aw, come on, you can't let it end on a sour note," said Hokamaru. "You gotta boot misfortune in the face and have some fun anyway."

Kakashi shook his head. "I don't think so… I'll probably just read a little and then go to bed…" His feet had already started moving without thought, and they carried him slowly away from those watching him—in the opposite direction that Tsuki had gone.

"Read what, that smut of yours?" was Hokamaru's quip.

Kakashi didn't feel like getting into that, and so he simply shrugged without a backward glance. The Hyuga snorted behind him.

"Are you sure, taichou?" Tenzo called. That translated roughly to 'do you need a confidant to walk with you right now?' Kakashi was fluent in Tenzo-speak, but right now, solitude seemed the best way to wash away the unpleasant taste of human stupidity.

Kakashi deigned Tenzo's concern with a glance and a casual but weary wave over his shoulder. The wood user nodded slowly and Kakashi faced ahead once more, watching his feet as they steppe, one after the other, taking him home.

Ah, home would be so much better than this evening had been…

It had started off well enough. Perhaps even better than he expected. Tsuki, despite her surly exterior, was decent company. But she was certainly a sour subordinate. That had been 50% of the problem.

The other 40% had to be Frog's impulsiveness. He honestly had no idea what had gone on in her head to convince her of this choice of action, but frankly, he wondered if it had been anything at all. Had she even stopped to think? Or simply acted? The latter was, unfortunately, more likely.

And the last percentage of contribution to the problem had been his own obliviousness. He would have hoped himself intelligent enough to see such melodrama coming from miles away, but his social ineptitude appeared to be greater than he first thought…

But that was a problem for a day when moral pondering didn't hurt his brain. As it was, every deep thought made his left eye twitch in objection, as if the orb were personally telling him 'close me. I need the sleep which you have deprived me of for the last six days.'

He hadn't slept more than ten hours in the last week.

It appeared to have dulled his wit. Incredible, that he couldn't stop this whole mess before it got so out of hand…


	31. Nightmares: Freefall

**Nightmares: Freefall**

 **Date Posted: 8/17/16**

 **Word Count: 1298**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
**

 **akirasatsuna: No, it's not stupid at all! But I'm afraid I can't say one way or another how everything's gonna turn out. Spoilers, dontcha know! ;)**

 **fluffpenguin: Right, you are. Tsuki doesn't hold much respect for places of authority...**

 **Youkai Ryuu: Ding ding ding! You are correct! Here is another nightmare for you. Saving the best for last, though. :3**

 **Thanks all for the reviews, faves, and follows! Hope you enjoy this installment; let me know what you think about it!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

 _Fast._

 _Spinning._

 _Weightless._

 _Falling._

 _Hokamaru couldn't see where, but he was falling. Down, down, down, through open air, and his stomach curled and twisted like it did whenever he even looked at a full plate of food._

 _There were no clouds. There was no sun. Only thick, inky blackness that warped beneath him like some living thing. Though sometimes, he would blink and there would be a flash of blue. Open sky. Either way, he wouldn't hit the ground any time soon._

 _Despite his helplessness, he didn't flail. He didn't fight. He couldn't. He was far too tired, the weight on his bones too great. Why spare the effort to try and delay the inevitable?_

 _What was the inevitable? Death?_

 _His mind bucked at that thought. Suddenly, he wasn't so willing to simply lounge in the open air, waiting for a landing that was sure to come._

 _Death. No. He didn't want to die. He didn't know what happened when a person died._

 _So he fought. In vain, he flailed and writhed against the wind that howled in his ears. He pushed against it like his hands alone could stop him._

 _Then, without warning, the ground came._

 _He hit hard, and the impact jarred him to the marrow, from his toes to his skull. He thought for sure every bone would shatter from the sheer force that exploded from his meeting place with the earth. But he came to a stop and, with a groan, managed to move as if nothing had happened. His heart beat against his ribcage like a wild thing raging for release._

 _He was in some sort of trench. Walls of earth rose up on all sides, forming a deep rectangle carved into the ground around him. He had managed to land right in it, despite it being no bigger than a large man in width and length._

 _When he stood, his head rose almost to the ground's edge. He threw his arms up over onto damp grass, and looked around to take in his surroundings._

 _Faces encircled him. Some he knew, more that he didn't. All wore black, and huddled under black umbrellas to shield them from the rain he hadn't noticed before. Kakashi-taichou was there, as was Tenzo, and Itachi-kun, and Father, and Daisuke. Hiashi-sama was even there, with his wife and the little Hyuga heiress._

 _Hokamaru laughed at the sight of all of their somber expressions. "Heh, aren't you lot a sight. If you didn't want to be wet and miserable, why'd you come to see me?"_

 _Nobody answered. Daisuke, his baby brother who wasn't such a baby anymore at fourteen years old, stepped forward and dropped a fistful of pink carnations and dead leaves into the pit at Hokamaru's feet._

 _It was then that Hokamaru realized he was standing on a box. A black box, large and long and sleek with gloss. With the Hyuga crest etched into its otherwise flawless face._

 _He was in a grave._

 _"Well, crap," he muttered, and attempted to climb out. His arms trembled with strain, but he didn't dare waste precious chakra just to get out of a hole in the ground._

 _"Rest now, onii-san," Daisuke breathed to the wind. The boy hesitated, and then dared to speak again. "Did you… Was this what you wanted? All of our attention… Why?"_

 _Hokamaru snorted. "Because I'm awesome. Obviously." What did Daisuke mean, 'rest'? He couldn't just lay in some random person's grave and take a nap! The longer he stood in this pit, the dirtier he felt. Some poor soul was trying to do some actual resting in that box under his feet, and he was disturbing them._

 _"Why go to such lengths just to…" Daisuke's breaths came quicker. Father noticed, muttered his name, but the young Hyuga boy wouldn't be deterred. "I don't understand! I don't understand at all… It's so stupid!_ He _was stupid! I just… I don't…"_

 _Father, one of the clan's most prodigious nobles, stepped forward to place a cold hand on his grieving son's shoulder. Hokamaru frowned. Was that the best the old man could do?_

 _"Your brother was many things," said the stone-faced man. "A fool was certainly one of them. I doubt any of us could have changed that. He ran head-on into his own doom."_

 _Hokamaru glared, dryly as Suna. "Gee, pops, thanks for that. Glad to know you care. Wait, what?"_

 _"He was a good shinobi," Taichou spoke up. His coal-grey eye flung invisible kunai in Father's direction. "Loyal and skilled. You can't deny that." Kakashi averted his gaze to stare down into the pit. "You should remember somebody for the good they did, not for all the things they failed in."_

 _Father gave a derisive snort. Daisuke looked incredibly confused._

 _"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Father shook his head._

 _Hokamaru scowled. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Hearing his Father speak poorly of himself was one thing. It was another entirely to hear the man make snide remarks at Kakashi of the Sharingan._

 _But then, Father had been tactless since Mother died. Fathers all went bad when their wives died._

 _Again, nobody heard him, and Kakashi didn't rise to Father's baiting. They all looked so absolutely pitiful that Hokamaru remembered what had struck him moments ago._

 _The Hyuga crest. The people here. And the fact that no one seemed to hear him…_

 _Forgetting propriety, he scrambled to the other side of the pit, sandals clomping hollowly across the casket's top. He groped for purchase in the moist earth at the edge, and struggled to raise himself only high enough to glimpse the tombstone, which rested at eye level._

 _'Hokamaru Hyuga', it read. Followed clinically by the dates that summarized his young life._

 _"What?" Hokamaru slipped from the ledge and sprawled backward, over the coffin. "But I'm not-"_

 _He examined himself. He was moving. His skin stretched over his bones with little muscle-mass to speak of, but he was alive. He was breathing. His heart was beating… wasn't it?_

 _Dirt fell in his face, and he sputtered, squeezing his suddenly-stinging eyes shut against it. "Hey, what-?"_

 _More dirt followed. They were burying him._

 _"Hey, wait!" Hokamaru scrambled to his feet, and hugged the edge of the pit. Mound after mound of dirt hit the casket, each thump more hollow than the last. "I'm not dead! Hey! Get me outta here!"_

 _Nobody replied. Nobody moved. More dirt fell in. He was going to be buried alive._

 _He tried to focus chakra into his hands and feet, tried to climb out like any good ninja, tried leaping out, shunshin, anything. Nothing worked. He remained in the pit, as the earth began to swallow him up._

 _"Daisuke… come on, buddy…" Hokamaru peered over the earth's edge, reaching up rather pathetically for his little brother. "I'm right here. Help me out."_

 _Daisuke looked right at him, and still, he made no move to oblige._

 _"You left me, onii-san," Daisuke murmured, milky eyes pained and teary. "More than once. This was just the last time."_

 _The coffin creaked. Its lid opened like a toothy maw, and the cushioned interior awaited Hokamaru's corpse, as if it expected him to simply lay down and settle in for a long, endless sleep._

 _"H*** no!" Hokamaru scrambled, strained, fought, but a force of nature drew him down, into the coffin's mouth. "Daisuke! Taichou! Tenzo, please!"_

 _Invisible bounds wrapped around him and laid him down almost gently. He thrashed. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe._

 _The lid snapped shut._

Hokamaru Hyuga sat up with a scream, sweat-drenched, throwing his blanket off of his body. In the haze of broken sleep, that blanket felt far too much like a shroud of moist earth.


	32. My Crush, Kakashi: Finale

**My Crush, Kakashi: Honor Above Infatuation**

 **Date Posted: 8/19/16**

 **Word Count: 1779**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **fluffpenguin: heh, yeah. My sister is of the opinion that Hoka has the most grounded nightmare of all of Team Ro. I'd say it's because he's a rather simple person: he's afraid to die. Nothing more to it. :P**

 **Youkai Ryuu: You ain't seen nothing yet. *evil chortle***

 **Thanks y'all! Here's the next chapter, a little early, just 'cause. :3**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

It had only been one night since the incident, and so the moment Frog stepped into Team Ro's locker room, Kakashi had to put all the willpower he possessed into hiding his cringe. He was so close to heading out on a solo mission—nice, quiet, private. Away from humans—those troublesome creatures—and yet, apparently, either Frog had known he would be here, or she had a mission of her own to prepare for. Either way, it put him and her alone in the suddenly vast space that was their corner of ANBU headquarters.

And alone was the last thing he wanted to be with either of the women on Team Ro.

Nevertheless, he had no choice. He hadn't even gotten the chance to don all of his armor before she entered. He had his arm guards on. He continued to reach for his flak jacket inside his locker, as if his momentary mental hiccup had never happened.

"Kakashi-taichou…" she said, not even heading over to her locker. That was a bad sign. It meant it was entirely possible that she was here for him and him alone.

 _Ugh. Please no._

"Can I talk to you?" she asked, sounding ridiculously meek compared to her usual brusque flair.

He glanced over at her. She stared at the floor, in baggy shorts and a loose tank, still in her henge as usual. She scuffed her toe along the floor, avoiding eye contact.

Not good.

"Can you talk… Yes. I'm fairly certain you can." He figured she deserved the glib response after her behavior the night previous. That, and she was always so loud. Why should now be any different?

Thankfully, her response to that was a little closer to normal. She raised her head long enough to give him a solid glare. "I'm being serious."

"Then please, continue." He resumed his preparations for his mission. He pulled his flak jacket from its place and unfolded it over his arm.

Meanwhile, Hana approached, her oddly insecure aura proceeding her like a wave of palpable anxiety that threatened to spread to him. He forced his Wolf persona into place, acting as captain more than comrade for the moment.

"I just… wanted to apologize," she said. Then, to his utter surprise, she threw herself into an exaggerated bow at the waist, a cringe squinting her eyes shut as if she were bracing herself for something. "Forgive me, taichou! My behavior yesterday was entirely uncalled for, and I realize that mistake now. I just…" Her cringe remained, but dimmed slightly with hesitation. "I got confused… I-I don't really… know how to make friends. A-And I don't always know how to… interact with people."

Understatement of the century. Kakashi kept that thought to himself and let her speak her piece.

"So when I saw your face…" _Ugh. That again._ "And you rescued me… I guess my brain went haywire, and I mistook admiration and respect for… geez, romantic interest. And I'm super embarrassed and I don't know what else to say and I'm just… really, really sorry. I'm such a child…"

Her lip trembled, and she looked about ready to cry. Frog. Cry.

No, no, no, that was the worst thing she could do. This whole fiasco was bad enough as it was. He didn't need to try and figure out how to handle an over-emotional Hana at the same time.

How could he put her at ease?

By acting normal.

He took a deep breath, and placed a hand on her head, ruffling her hair ever so slightly. She flinched a little.

"Don't worry," he said, offering her a smile. "I get that from all the girls. And even some guys."

Her green eyes widened, and for one terrifying moment, her blush intensified. He kept his smile in place.

Then the blush faded, and she cracked a stifled grin, snickering building up in her throat. This evolved into a full-out belly laugh, during which she hung her hands off his wrist. He wasn't sure why, but she lacked the odd double-edged attitude from yesterday, so he supposed it wasn't entirely horrible.

"Geez, taichou…" She managed to take a few breathes between her laughter. "How did you get to be a captain being like this?"

This time, his smile returned of its own accord. "Mah, I'm just special."

She laughed some more, until she calmed herself. Her hands dropped from his arm to hang limp at her sides. "Thank you… I don't deserve your graciousness."

"Do any of us deserve grace, given our occupation?" He released her head, inwardly smirking a little at the unkempt state of her hair once his hand was removed.

Her smile, already faltering in shame, dimmed completely at that. She hung her head. "No… I suppose not…"

Whoops. He forgot that not everybody could handle the darkness of his own thoughts at times. Exit, exit, quick!

He chucked her chin gently, tilting her head up again. "Hey. It's not as bad as all that. We all share our darkness, but that's what makes us the team that we are. We might not be very good at domestic things like… dates and friends. Heh. But that's not why we're here, is it?"

She swiped at her eyes a little, and nodded against his hand.

An awkward cough interrupted them.

Hana's attention jerked toward the intruder. Kakashi took his time looking up, recognizing the voice quality even before he spotted Tenzo standing in the locker room door. A rabid blush reddened the boy's face, and he scratched the back of his neck, stuttering like a wood-pecker.

"U-Uh… sorry. I didn't mean to…" Tenzo's voice threatened to squeak in its delivery of his hasty apology, but Kakashi couldn't be sure it wasn't just the voice change he was in the middle of. "Um… Yeah, I'll just… wait… until you're finished…"

"What're you blathering on about, Cat?" Frog snapped. Kakashi inwardly sighed at the return of the normal Hana he knew.

Tenzo flinched, and held up his hands placatingly, waving them in earnest. "N-Nothing! I'm just… a little surprised is all. I didn't… Um… never mind."

"Grow a spine, stick brain, and spit it out!"

Tenzo's gaze flickered to Kakashi, silently pleading for back up that Kakashi didn't feel like giving. To be honest, he was rather curious about his friend's strange behavior as well. Oddly enough, Tenzo's odd behavior could be tracked back to the day Hana started acting differently as well…

"What's so surprising?" Kakashi found himself asking, genuinely inquisitive.

Somehow, Tenzo managed to turn an even deeper shade of red, and he shuffled backward a bit. "Nothing, I just…" He gave an awkward, convenient cough. "Didn't know…"

Kakashi set a hand on Hana's shoulder to keep her from barking out a harsh response. "Didn't know what?"

Tenzo twiddled his fingers. "That… Well…" His final phrase came out as a hurried mumble, but Kakashi managed to catch every word all the same.

"That you… swung that way…"

Kakashi blinked.

Hana looked absolutely stunned.

Then a laugh escaped from Kakashi's throat. More laughter followed, boiling up and spilling out of him against his will.

He laughed at poor Hana. He laughed at poor Tenzo. He laughed at the complete and utter ridiculousness of the last 24 hours. He laughed more than he had in months.

In the meantime, Hana turned her own unique shade of red, and stormed up to Tenzo, who wasn't wise enough to quickly make himself scarce.

Hana blared her next statement so loud that Kakashi could almost hear the lockers rattling over his subsiding fit of laughter.

"I'M A WOMAN, MORON!"

Tenzo's eyes went so wide, it was a wonder they didn't fall out. The color drained from his face just as fast as it had appeared. Kakashi had to suffocate a fresh wave of snickering at the sight. He could practically see the younger boy's mind frantically backtracking.

"Oh ***, I am so sorry," was the first intelligent thing out of Tenzo's mouth. Kakashi doubted the idea had even completely registered in Tenzo's mind, and yet the wood user still apologized.

Even so, Hana reeled her fist back and swung, knocking Tenzo out of the doorway and into the wall on the opposite side of the hall outside.

Kakashi swallowed his laughter rather quickly. "Hey now…"

"Whoa…" came a certain Hyuga's voice from outside. "What'd you do, twig-brain?"

Considering Tenzo was rather occupied trying to see straight after an impact like that, Hana took it upon herself to answer.

"All this time! All this time, and the dimwit can't tell I'm under a freakin' henge!? BAKA!" Gnashing her teeth, she stormed into the hallway, and Kakashi caught a glimpse of Hokamaru as he stepped wisely out of her path. Then the Hyuga had his own moment of laughter.

"Wow, Cat… that's kinda sad. What sort of elite ANBU can't sense a henge?"

"It was a mistake…" was Tenzo's shaky reply as he pried himself out of the imprint he'd left in the wall.

"D*** right it was a mistake!" Hana roared, bringing another fist around toward the wood user's jaw. This time, he blocked it with his forearm, straining against the amount of force packed behind her small frame. "Two years! I've been on this team for two years! Everybody else figured it out on their own. And you're telling me that you're _just now_ realizing this!?"

"I said I was sorry!" Tenzo defended himself, beginning to sweat.

"I DON'T CARE!" Hana's free hand swung and buried itself six inches deep into the wall behind Tenzo's ear. The boy sucked in a sharp breath, ducked out from between her imposing arms, and took off down the hall.

"GET BACK HERE, COWARD!" Frog sprinted after him.

Hokamaru just howled with laughter.

Kakashi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. And so, everything was back to normal… And what do you know, they all even learned something from the whole ordeal.

Hana learned that there was a difference between admiration and romantic love.

Kakashi learned that his own face held more power than he thought. And that he really ought to pay more attention to the emotional stability of his teammates.

And Tenzo learned what happened when you fell for a ruse that Hana kept up but apparently expected 'smart' people to see through.

The Hatake sighed again, and set his flak jacket aside. His mission could wait another five minutes. He had a friend to rescue. Again.

"Frog, leave Cat alone," he called down the hall even as he gave chase, a smirk hiding behind his infamous mask.

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 **A/N: Aaaand thus ends the My Crush, Kakashi arc! :D This was such a blast to write... Can't believe it's finished, though. On to the next arc!  
**


	33. Nightmares: Howl

**Nightmares: Howl**

 **Date Posted: 8/26/16**

 **Word Count: 1087**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES**

 **fluffpenguin: Hana's a very insecure person, unfortunately. She barely knows herself. Hence why she's threatened by pretty much everything. Even an innocent oversight. *pats Tenzo* I do you hope enjoy the upcoming arcs as much as you enjoyed this one!**

 **Guest: Yeah, well... My idea was that Tenzo had other things to worry about. And if he did notice the henge, he assumed it was something small. Like covering a scar or something frivolous like that. Especially since none of the other ANBU seemed particularly concerned. It never occurred to him that Hana might be using it to disguise her gender. XP**

 **Youkai Ryuu: Heh heh. :P And at last, here is that Kakashi angst I promised you!**

 **Thanks for all the feedback and follows, guys. Let me know what you think about this next installment! I love hearing from y'all.**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

 _ **Warnings: Blood and vague gore.**_

* * *

 _If you could only see_  
 _The beast you've made of me_  
 _I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free_

* * *

 _Cold snow crunched under panicked footsteps. One lengthy stride after the other, a boy sprinted through a frozen wood with all the strength and stamina he had within him. Crystals of ice slipped between his feet and shoes, dampening his toes, slickening his soles._

 _Still, Kakashi ran._

 _Blood soaked his black gloves through, heavy and cumbersome, leaving a crimson trail for the hunters to follow. Too easy, too easy… He ripped them off and discarded them in a blink, but now, gloves of blood sheathed his bare hands. The thick red liquid steamed with heat in the cold. It just kept coming…_

 _He could hear his pursuers. A score of powerful footfalls, faster than his, gaining with every step. Teeth bared, breath adding frost to the air. One of them howled, the mournful call making him shiver. The pack behind him closed in._

 _Ahead, a figure waited for him between the bare trees. She had a gaping hole in her chest, where her heart should have been._

 _She stood in his path, but he couldn't stop. Not now. If he stopped, they would catch him. So he swerved._

 _She moved too fast. His fist hit her collarbone, chakra glove slicing through flesh, bone, and beating heart, and burst out her back with a shower of beautiful red. Under his arm, he felt her shattered heart give one last pitiful beat before going still._

 _"Kakashi…" she whispered. It was supposed to sound terrified. Instead, it was a hiss of contempt. Her small hands gripped his arm, keeping him from pulling it away. "Why?"_

 _He tore his arm away, and her body fell. But he was still running. Blood continued to stream from his elbows to his fingers, and fly off in hypnotizing fans of scarlet drops with every pump of his arms. His breath burned in his lungs._

 _"Kakashi!" a different voice shouted from amidst the trees. A log hidden beneath the snow caught Kakashi's foot and he sprawled forward, at the feet of a small, ebony-headed boy. Blood pooled beneath the boy's right side. A mangled leg still managed to keep him upright._

 _"You broke your promise!" the boy accused. "You promised me… You_ promised _me that you'd protect her! But you-…" His voice went dark with hatred. "You_ killed _her."_

 _Kakashi scrambled back to his feet, practically feeling hot breath huffing down his neck. The pack had not stopped. He pushed past the boy and raced on._

 _Run._

 _That was his only thought._

 _He had no other awareness. He barely remembered his own name, save that these ghosts of the past would not let him forget it._

 _"Kakashi!" A man with hair like sunlight appeared in his path, long coat fluttering behind him, and a wound punched through his torso where his ribcage once was. "What did I tell you about that jutsu? What did I tell you about the rules? You could've prevented all of this!"_

 _"Get out of my way!" a voice from Kakashi's throat said. He didn't remember speaking. He pushed past his dead sensei and found a steep decline behind him. The ground dropped away, and his run turned into a fall. His knees buckled, he rolled through the frigid powder, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He slid to a stop at the base of the ravine. He watched the liquid pool off his fingers into the cold, pristine carpet._

 _Blood… it was such a satisfying shade of red._

 _A pair of sandals entered his vision again. Larger than the boy's. Weathered by time and rough use. Kakashi lifted his head to see who would accuse him now._

 _"I thought you could handle it… being alone. I thought you would be happier," the familiar—far too familiar—face said to him from under a fringe of silver hair. "Was I wrong?"_

You have no idea.

Were you wrong?

In oh so many ways.

 _"You hated me, Kakashi. We both know you did."_

 _He didn't want to have this conversation. He'd spent 15 years trying to get away from it. Was this man right? No. At least, that was what he wanted to believe. But the truth was Kakashi didn't know. And so he didn't even try. Why answer a question you didn't have an answer for?_

 _"Won't you even speak to me?"_

 _No. No he wouldn't. The howls came closer. They paused at the top of the hill behind him._

 _The man sighed. "As I thought… You really are better off without me, huh? Well, don't let me interrupt you. I would hate for-"_

 _He never finished. Something exploded through his form from behind, his body dissipating, a mere vapor in the wake of the massive creature that took his place. The timber wolf skidded to a halt a mere three feet from Kakashi's vacant face. Bloody fangs dripped bubbling pink saliva, purple tongue flicking over curled black lips but doing little to clean them._

 _Bloody fangs… Huh. The White Fang, and the Bloody Fang. His heritage, before his eyes._

 _Amazing, what thoughts crossed one's mind in the face of death._

 _Four more wolves came loping down the ravine and closed in around him. Kakashi didn't bother to get to his feet. It was too late now._

 _Besides. One could only run from judgment for so long. And 15 years was an awfully long time, despite the blink it seemed to have taken to pass them by._

 _5 long seconds was all he had._

 _The alpha tore at him, powerful jaws locking on the forearm that came up by sheer instinct to shield Kakashi's face and neck. Kakashi felt the bone snap with a burst of fire under his skin, driven deeper by the teeth that ripped rivets through tendon and muscle._

 _The others followed suit of the first._

 _He'd felt such intense pain before. Just never physically._

 _Hot crimson melted the trampled snow._

The leap of his heart against his ribcage woke him, and it took Kakashi nearly a full minute to realize that he still had a windpipe. The rattle of breath in and out of his lungs would never be enough to convince him.

* * *

 _The saints can't help me now_  
 _The ropes have been unbound_  
 _I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground_

* * *

 _*Inspired by The Long Road Home (T) by KakashiKrazed, and Deja Vu (M) by Calico Jay_

 _*Lyrics by Florence + The Machine_


	34. Like Someone Is Watching Me

**Like Someone Is Watching Me**

 **Date Posted: 9/23/16**

 **Word Count: 6490**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
**

 **Moon Phoenix Yukira: I have always used the character tags as a way to designate what canon characters have larger roles in the story, even if it's only marginally larger than most other canon characters. In this fic, Kakashi is indeed the main character, but Tenzo and Itachi are part of the supporting cast that is the rest of Team Ro. As they're important to the story, I include them in the tags. :) And as for Ibiki comparing notes with Iruka... I dunno; it's possible that I'll follow up on it later, but I never intended to. Basically, it's not currently relevant to what I'm aiming to focus on in this fic. But who knows! Maybe I will write something on it in the future.**

 **fluffpenguin: Ahhh, I love a good decomposition of fiction. XP This is why I write, to get people thinking about the meaning behind the text on the screen. Thanks for sharing your thoughts! I love hearing them, especially 'cause most people don't write them out.**

 **Youkai Ryuu: He has, really. :( He makes me sad... and happy at the same time.**

 **Thanks all for the wonderful comments! And also thank you to all who faved and followed this story. Let me know what you think about this next installment!**

 **~Penelope**

 **P.S. Sorry about the delay for this one. =/ Life happened...**

* * *

"Don't look now, my eternal rival, but there's somebody in that tree _right over there_ , watching us!"

Despite the particulars of his phrasing, the Leaf's 'Noble Blue Beast' raised his hand from his plate of dango to point dramatically over Kakashi's right shoulder. A good number of the pedestrians moseying by under the festival lanterns gave the green-clad shinobi queer looks, before hurrying onward on their ways.

Kakashi sighed, kebab in his hand sagging with lost enthusiasm. Couldn't he just enjoy his pork and eggplant in peace? Still, Gai wouldn't point something like this out unless he found it genuinely concerning - that's what the Copy Nin told himself, anyway. Perhaps he was only trying to make himself feel better about his relaxing evening being disturbed. It was, after all, Konoha Soritsu - the Founding of the Leaf anniversary holiday. He got a full 24 hours off duty. A rare thing indeed.

Swiveling ever so slightly on the bench, away from the park table they sat at, he let his gaze rove over the area, cast in the waning light of dusk, in a half-hearted attempt to see just what had Gai so wound up.

Gai banged the table. "Noooo, I said _don't_ look!"

Kakashi, not spotting anything with his natural eye, rolled both eyes and gave his companion a dry, unimpressed gaze. "Then why say anything at all?"

"Why?" Gai's eyes scrunched with mild offense and he thumped his fist to his chest. "Why, because if there's somebody stalking somebody, that somebody has every right to know! And if some shady character is out to get my eternal rival, we had best be ready for him!"

Such drama… Kakashi glanced once more over his shoulder; he couldn't even sense any out-of-place presences. The park was too full with people enjoying the festivities and waiting for fireworks, leaving him too bombarded with sensory input to rightly differentiate anything. Besides. His stomach was threatening to rumble, and his kebabs were getting cold.

"There are lots of people out tonight, Gai," he assured his fellow shinobi, silently hoping he would let it go. "There's bound to be somebody watching us from time to time."

Not even accounting for the dozens of civilians and off-duty ninja alike that would let their gazes roam over their fellow revelers, Kakashi knew that some ANBU hadn't been given a break for the holiday. After all, somebody besides the fidgety Uchiha police had to keep peace and safety enforced in the village while everyone else was making merry.

"Hmm…" Gai, his ridiculously broad eyebrows drawing lower over his eyes, didn't seemed terribly convinced. "If you're sure, Kakashi…"

"I am. Now eat your dango before the sauce dries." If Gai obeyed, that would effectively shut him up until Kakashi was finished with his own food, which meant he could head home before the park grew too crowded.

"Well… if you say so!" Smile breaking out on his face, Gai dove back into his treats with gusto, and he practically inhaled his next stick of dumplings.

All around them, the smells of fast food and sparkler ashes mingled with cut grass and the overwhelming scent of _crowd_. More and more people were arriving from the shadows of the city streets onto the open park lawn, ready for the night's show, while others populated the nearby rooftops, eager for a better spot that didn't involve straining to see over someone else's head. Kakashi couldn't sympathize, as he didn't plan on sticking around.

Over the next ten minutes, Kakashi was sure that Gai started talking about some random thing or another, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to focus. The sounds… the smells… so many people. It was beginning to bug him.

He was an ANBU. A creature of stealth and shadows, falling through the cracks while everybody else walked in the sunshine and open air. He wasn't used to being so… exposed.

"Kakashi!" Gai barked.

The Copy Ninja raised his head with a jerk. "Hm?"

His companion scowled at him, looking mildly offended at having not been heard. Or perhaps it was a scowl of chastisement? Kakashi couldn't tell.

"Are you all right?" Gai asked, leaning his elbow on the table to level his hand near his face, where he could casually munch on his dumplings while he inquired of his rival's wellbeing.

Kakashi offered a forced smile. "Yeah. Sorry, I just got lost in my head for a minute."

"You've been staring off into empty space more often than not lately." Gulping down two more dumplings, Gai added yet another empty skewer to the pile on his platter. Even as he ate, he kept his solemn gaze on Kakashi, and the seriousness of it was rather unnerving. Gai hardly ever bothered to be serious—at least, not really. Not by normal social standards, anyway. "Are you sure?"

Of all things, he hated when people did that. Asked if he was okay. Not only was it an awkward and overused question, but it reminded him that most people in the Leaf village were utterly clueless as to what he did for a living. He wouldn't wish this kind of burden on somebody like Might Gai, but he also wished people would just leave him be. If he had a problem, he would say something.

Wouldn't he?

No, probably not. In fact, he avoided this subject like the plague. Still, his problems were his own and he could handle them. He was Kakashi Hatake, after all, genius of his generation. He was destined from the beginning to be a lone wolf.

"I'm sure," he said, with a hollow sort of cheer that he hoped was enough to get Gai off his back. Then he turned to his own food; despite a sudden lack of appetite, he forced himself to finish his kebab and then, after ensuring his face mask was back in place, scooped up his disposable dishes and dragged himself to his feet. Time to hightail it out of there before things got too crowded.

"I'd better head on home," he declared, easily enough, like a casual exit line to a friendly conversation. "I'll watch the rest of the festivities from the roof of my apartment. I'll see you later, Gai."

However, Gai was not so easily deserted. He jumped to his feet as well, abandoning his platter and leftovers on the tabletop. "I'll go with you, then!"

"No, it's fine!" Kakashi almost spoke too quickly and had to temper his words so he didn't sound too desperate. That would only egg the other ninja on, and that was the last thing he needed. "You stick around, enjoy the festival, Gai. Can't you feel the youth in the air?"

Gai's smile broadened to an almost painful width, and he turned around to spread his arms wide in gesture to the park around them. "Oh, yes! Of all the times of year, there is only one that is more youthful in spirit than this one, and that would be the Winter Kansei!"

That had done the trick. While the chuunin ranted about the fires of youth, Kakashi glanced around for the nearest disposal. Spotting one a mere ten paces away, and casting his comrade one last glance, the Copy Nin bounded to the wastebin, dropped his platter in, and then flickered off to the nearest alleyway, where he could be sure he wasn't followed. A needle of guilt pricked at the hollow cavity in his chest for ditching Gai, but the rapidly growing crowd plus the near-miss questions had him on edge.

It was not good to have an ANBU on edge in a public place. That was when bad things happened.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, the Hatake started on the trek to his apartment, which awaited him in the eastern neighborhood district - the rougher part of town. The co-ed group home was an ideal location for a private shinobi like himself—the other renters kept to themselves and the landlady, known only as Old Lady Fu, left them alone so long as they paid rent on time.

Perhaps he would watch the fireworks from the rooftop, he mused to himself as he walked amidst the deepening twilight shadows. The crickets played a steady backdrop to his thoughts. At least if he did, he wouldn't make himself a complete liar. It wasn't his original reason for leaving, but he could watch a bit and have something of it to tell Gai when the chuunin asked later.

As he went along, he encountered a person here, a pair there, all he assumed on their way to the park, chattering amongst themselves about the fireworks show or the food stands or visiting relations. Others, he spotted on their own rooftops or by their second or third story windows, ready and awaiting the festive display to come.

There, in the mostly vacant streets of the village, on his way to his quiet little apartment, he finally felt the tension start to loosen from his shoulders. He took a deep, soothing breath, and let it out slowly, focusing on the crispness of the evening air.

 _Maybe I'll even get some reading done…_

Something moved in his peripheral. Not visible or anywhere nearby, but it appeared as a blip on the low-level field projected by his hidden Sharingan, which yet remained closed under his hitai-ate. The eye drained immense amounts of chakra and, being unable to turn the darned thing off, he kept it shadowed and away from use in hopes of conserving valuable energy. This, however, couldn't completely subdue its power.

This little subconscious warning reminded him of one of the smaller reasons why he didn't hate that eye yet.

He raised his guard, stretched out his senses to search, to feel, to sift through the shadows that surrounded him. A single presence was approaching from his 07:00—rapidly. He could detect the dormant signatures of civilians in their homes, but this was a great human ball of fizzling chakra, agitated and a deep, dark, roiling blue. It wasn't Gai, but it was definitely someone with decent power.

In the next moment, they were behind him. He stopped in his tracks, staring at the ground for signs of a shadow, but it seemed they'd positioned themselves directly behind him. The rising moon offered no help.

The presence made no efforts to conceal itself; if they were ANBU, they must have felt no need for stealth. Unless they were that confident in their abilities.

Beneath the cloth of his headband, he allowed his Sharingan to open in preparation for conflict.

But what was he doing?

He was home. In the Leaf Village, on the night of a public festival. While many ninja had been given the holiday off, security was heightened by the doubled presence of ANBU Black Ops hidden among the crowds.

And this presence had come from the direction of the main park. This was likely someone from Konoha himself, a fellow shinobi of the Leaf. Why was he so quick to jump to caution?

He turned around, setting aside strategy for the moment. Before he jumped to conclusions of any sort, he figured it best to gather information.

The person behind him was, indeed, an ANBU operative, his bone white flak jacket and arm guards reflecting the silver moonlight and standing out in stark contrast to the rest of his black uniform. His long hair, shoulder-length and dark in the night, gleamed a bit, looking almost navy. His narrow-eyed mask, white and yellow in color, formed a delicate, arched beak and resembled a bird of prey - a falcon or hawk, perhaps. Kakashi felt like he had seen this particular operative around, but had never been formally introduced.

After all, only the Hokage and the Leaf's Torture and Interrogation Unit knew the identities of each and every Leaf ANBU.

"Hawk, isn't it?" he offered, seeing that the other man had no intention of speaking. "Can I help you?"

The ANBU didn't move for another long moment. When he finally did, he reached his hand up to his mask, and gripped the edges. Raising it up atop his head, he revealed a rather noble face, a tapered jaw and sharp, angular eyes that somehow seemed befitting, considering his mask's appearance. Gold irises caught light off a nearby window, gleaming like a cat's. He had symmetrical tattoos on his face, blue in color as well: a pair of tear marks that started near the inside corners of his eyes and ended an inch from either edge of his lips, and two spots above the inside corners of his eyebrows. He eyed Kakashi with a strange sort of criticism, a slight downturn of the corners of his mouth, and an almost curious tilt of his head.

Still, he hadn't answered Kakashi's question, which only heightened the Hatake's suspicion. If he had come on official ANBU business, he would have said so right away. And why remove his mask? It made no sense.

So what did this man want?

"Listen, if you want something, tell me," he said finally, the mental image of his waiting apartment flashing across the forefront of his mind and tempting him with comfort. "Otherwise, I was just heading home."

Leaving it at that, he turned to walk away and leave the strange shinobi to his choice. But with a flicker of color, the gold-eyed ninja appeared a pace ahead of him, blocking his path. As much as Kakashi had mentally prepared himself for anything, it didn't fail to make him jump. His hands came out of his pockets on instinct - to do what, he wasn't sure yet.

"Why are you stopping me?" he asked, forcing a question rather than an order of 'move'.

Still, the ANBU said nothing.

Then, a kunai gleamed in his hand and an arc of reflected light swept toward Kakashi's collar bone. Breath escaping him, jaw clenching, and his Sharingan pulsing to life, the Copy Nin threw himself backward, dodging the blade and brushing his knuckles over his left eye at the same time, ridding it of its cloak. For a moment, he saw a confusing blur of reality and red. Then he closed his natural eye, and plunged himself into the Sharingan's tinted field of vision.

The other ANBU's chakra network flowed dark and rapid, but steady and normal in ebb and flow. He was under no genjutsu or external force of any kind. Therefore, he was acting of his own free will.

But what did he want?

Kakashi brought his own kunai from the pouch on his belt, spinning it deftly before holding it out in defense.

If he wanted a fight, he would get it.

The ANBU stared at him for the longest time, with that same tilt of his head, and seemed to be analyzing everything about him. His gaze scanned from his face to his feet, cold and analytical and intelligent. He certainly didn't look like a madman.

Then he dashed in again, and this time, Kakashi was ready. Kunai met kunai, and the metallic clash that resounded as a result ricocheted off the surrounding buildings, disturbing the peace of the night.

In rapid succession, the kunai strikes came, and Kakashi matched their speed and met each one evenly. The ANBU's expression never altered during the exchange, maintaining a stern facade as unchanging as the porcelain mask he carried on his person. Back and forth they went, feet stationary as neither gained any ground on the other.

Kakashi stopped trying to figure this bizarre puzzle out, and focused instead on defending himself. There would be time for thinking later, when there wasn't some strange shinobi attacking him for no apparent reason.

His opponent had a firm arm, and fluid strikes, Kakashi learned. He didn't need his Sharingan to sense that. Every time he blocked, he felt the immovability behind the opposite kunai. The stranger had an Earth Style steadiness about him, yet displayed a hauntingly familiar, almost spasmodic intensity to his offense. As far as pure strength went, they seemed evenly matched. Kakashi could gain no ground, but lost none at the same time.

Finally, the other shinobi backflipped out of range, and formed a number of rapid hand signs.

"Water Style," he declared in a smooth tenor voice, "Surface Slicer!"

The high-pressure jet of water launched from the ground at Kakashi's feet, and he scarcely managed to dodge to the right. His Sharingan logged the hand signs for the jutsu, which he shoved to the back of his mind for now.

A water user? Less common in the Land of Fire, but not rare by any means.

Kakashi prepared to respond in kind with his own jutsu. His hand signs flowed, and he called it out. "Earth Style: Great Mud River!"

Mud swirled into being at his enemy's feet, dragging the ANBU down into a foot of soaked dirt and rendering him immobile. This seemed to catch the man off guard, and those gold eyes cast this new pitfall a dark but analytical glare.

Meanwhile, Kakashi prepared his final attack.

"Chidori!"

He wouldn't go overboard, wouldn't advance to the Lightning Blade. He wanted answers after all was said and done. He couldn't kill the man. Just paralyze him. The speed that activating his natural chakra type gave him took him to the ANBU's side in almost a blink, and he raised the crackling handful of lightning energy over his opponent's head.

The navy-haired shinobi let fly some hasty hand signs. "Lightning Style: Circuit Tap!"

The Copy Nin's Chidori hit his enemy's sternum dead center. Arcs of electricity danced over the other ANBU, and made the man arch his back in pain.

Pain? Yes, Kakashi was sure that was it. But why wasn't he falling?

His jutsu complete, he made a dive to the side, and turned on his heel so he could keep his eyes on his attacker. Bolts of lightning still danced across his body, but almost looked as though they were shrinking each time. Not like a normal discharge, but warped, almost funneled. Like the ANBU's body was literally sucking them in.

The effort was no longer written on the other man's face. His jaw remained clenched, but besides this, he stared without expression at the last of the bolts before he seemed to draw those in as well. Confusion overtaking him, Kakashi looked harder with his Sharingan, hoping to see what had just happened.

The ANBU's chakra had brightened to a strange, neon blue and seemed more agitated and energetic than before. It spiraled about his body like a swarm of hyperactive bees, and in the next second, it all seemed to flow toward his hands.

More hand signs. Kakashi cleared his vision. "Uh oh…"

"Lightning Style: Static Release!"

What was this? That was two Lightning style moves in a row. How many natures did this stranger have mastered?

Kakashi almost couldn't dodge the singular bright streak of lightning— his own lightning!—that shot out toward him. It resonated a clap of what sounded like thunder, thanks to its speed and dense energy, and it was this sound and the percussion that accompanied it through the air in waves that threw Kakashi off his feet, not the electricity itself. He sprawled on his back, sending up a cloud of early autumn dust. He felt his hair stand on end from the lingering static in the air.

With a groan, he pried his eyes open, only to see the ANBU standing right over him.

With a single hand sign, the clone dispelled, and all the memories of the last minute rushed to Kakashi's mind. Without wasting a second, he completed the Earth Style technique and and shot upward, straight toward the ANBU's chakra signature. His presence had gone dark blue again.

 _He absorbed my lightning and redirected it back at me. That's bothersome…_

Kakashi's hand preceded him, and he latched onto the ANBU's heel.

"Earth Style: Headhunter jutsu!"

Down Kakashi dragged his opponent, until the ANBU was submerged up to his throat in solid earth. Only then did he tunnel himself out, and reappear on the surface, a tad out of breath. Using his eye like this drained more energy than he'd wanted to use tonight.

Better finish it up quickly, if it wasn't already done.

He approached the other shinobi, preparing to activate his Chidori again - his last chance for the night. Using more than two Chidori in the span of five minutes wasn't good for him.

Then the other ninja smirked. And dispelled into a puddle of water.

 _A water clone!?_

How was that possible? Such a jutsu was a rare skill among Leaf shinobi. Kakashi himself could perform it only thanks to his Sharingan.

When had he-? Kakashi glanced over to where the ninja had been stuck in his pit of mud. The pit had dried up, leaving only two deep footprints as evidence of the ANBU's previous entrapment—that must have been where he conjured up the water.

Then where was he now?

The enemy's presence flickered into existence behind him, followed by rustling fabric.

"Water Style: Mouth of the Serpent!"

Kakashi turned around just in time to see the ANBU place his hands firmly on the ground. The hiss of rushing water filled the Copy Nin's ears and it seemed to be coming from below his feet. He glanced down just as a torrent of water shot from the hole in which he'd trapped the water clone. It swept Kakashi up and back, only to slam him down into the street and send him skidding in the sudden marsh that was once the road.

He lay there for a long second, soaked and dirty, regaining his bearings. He could hear the splut-splut of footsteps in the newly soggy terrain, and he gathered his chakra into his hand once more, for that second and final Chidori.

"You really are as good as they say," the ANBU finally spoke to him.

Too late for friendly conversation now. Kakashi raised his hand.

"Chidori!"

The screaming of a thousand birds filled the air again, as Kakashi's chakra exploded from his palm in a mess of tangled white streams. He slammed that hand into the wet earth, sending electricity charging through it in all directions. He felt it tickle at his back, but it did little to him, since he was the source of its energy.

In a blur of black, the ANBU jumped away and glued himself to the side of one of the nearby buildings. Kakashi eyed him over the lightning arcing around him, and those gold eyes stared right back. The smirk returned, finally adding emotion to that cold, blank face.

"Kakashi!" Gai's bellowing voice echoed over the street. Turning his attention toward his friend's approach, he almost didn't notice when the ANBU's presence seemed to vanish entirely.

Gai came bounding up the street, and dashed right up to the Copy Nin through the field of mud. "My eternal rival, what on earth happened here!?" The green-clad ninja offered him a hand.

Kakashi allowed himself to be helped to his feet, staring at the spot where he'd last seen the strange shinobi. He then began running over the very same question Gai had posed in his mind.

Unfortunately, it seemed he would get no answers this night.

* * *

"Sandaime-sama…" Kakashi knelt before the leader of the Leaf Village, having at last been admitted to his office after at least thirty minutes of waiting. The Third Hokage was a busy man, being the one person in the whole of Konoha who had a hand in every single mission, had access to every file and every secret. There was nothing kept from the Hokage, and if there was, somebody would pay, courtesy of the Torture and Interrogation Department.

Of course, Hiruzen Sarutobi's knowledge was the very reason why even an elite ANBU operative was kept waiting to see him, even when the old Professor himself was the one who summoned said-operative.

"Rise, Kakashi-kun," said the elderly man seated behind the broad new desk, and the Copy Nin did as he was told. A brief glance showed him organized stacks of files piling across the desk top. He had better make it brief, then.

"You summoned me?" Kakashi prompted.

"Yes, forgive me for the early hour."

"Mah… I couldn't sleep, anyway." Indeed, after the bizarre occurrences of the evening previous, Kakashi had hardly been able to close his eyes, spending hours of the night trying to puzzle through the case of the sudden attack and the ANBU stranger who started it.

"I can see that… Take another day off, Kakashi-kun. You look wrung out, like a dead cat."

"Ah… thank you?" Kakashi tried his best not to wither too obviously. "Is… that why you summoned me?" If the only reason why Sandaime called him here was to compare him to a deceased feline…

"No." The Hokage took a puff on his pipe, his kind creases smoothing to the hard, chiseled expression of a seasoned leader. "I summoned you here to report on the happenings of last night."

Kakashi's eyebrows twitched up. "Last night…"

"Were you planning on reporting an open hostile in Konoha's own streets?"

"Of course." Kakashi couldn't help the spike of offense at the idea that he would hide something like a blatant attack within Konohagakure's walls. "I merely wanted to see what I could glean from the situation before I put anything down for certain."

"Hm…" Sandaime didn't look entirely convinced, but he sighed anyway. "Either way, I want to hear your report in person. Might Gai was able to provide me with a report of the street where the incident occurred, but beyond that, there was very little he could tell me."

No doubt Gai rushed over not minutes after leaving Kakashi at the latter's apartment doorstep. No surprise there.

"It was a Leaf ANBU, sir."

"What?" The Sandaime's tension returned full force with the squaring of his aged shoulders.

Kakashi nodded. He reached into his pack, felt the spike of irritated chakra from the other ANBU stationed in the walls, and gingerly pulled out a piece of rolled up paper. His night had not been entirely unproductive. He'd done some sketching, putting down every detail he could recall of the stranger's mask. "He seemed skilled in both Lightning and Water style techniques, and was quite powerful. He absorbed my Chidori and then redirected it at me."

The Hatake held out the paper, which detailed the strange ANBU's mask, for the Hokage to see. The moment he laid eyes on it, the older gentleman's expression changed to one of knowing resignation, and almost rolling his eyes, he sank back into his chair and sighed. The tense atmosphere all but vaporized under a wave of something like relief with a tinge of exasperation.

"Oh boy…" was all the Hokage could manage, suddenly sounding his age.

"If you could inform me of the captain this operative serves under, I can begin investigating this more thoroughly," Kakashi offered, wary of the strange reaction.

Hiruzen gave a weary shake of his head. "There won't be any need for that."

Kakashi, despite himself, narrowed his eyes. "Why's that?"

"Because-"

A silhouette moved across the viewport windows, casting a stark shadow across the room and catching Kakashi's eye instantly. A man's figure, wearing the telltale uniform of an ANBU, had appeared, and now scampered along the roof's edge, following the windows. The Hokage merely closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then glanced over the back of his chair.

At the center of the line of windows, the figure stopped and ducked down to peer through to them. The very same mask from the drawing Kakashi had brought, matching the one from that strange night, greeted them with its narrow-eyed blankness, hiding the navy-haired shinobi's face. The Copy Nin felt the weight of the stranger's gaze on him and shortly after, the latter gave that same juvenile tilt of his head. Like a curious bird.

Then the ANBU hopped up and vanished from view. Seconds later, the ceiling boards creaked once or twice. Kakashi watched, and kept note of the fact that the Sandaime didn't seem concerned. Something bumped above them.

"That," said the Hokage, with a sort of resigned exasperation, "would be Hawk: Kigen Ryoiki. An ANBU captain recently returned from leave."

Kakashi frowned, listening to the sounds of something dragging across the boards that made up the edge of the ceiling. He could sense the shinobi's presence inching along inside what was likely an air shaft. "Leave, sir?"

"That's correct." The old man sighed again, and gave the ceiling a dubious look, mouth pressed thin and slightly quirked. "I'm beginning to wonder if he needed more time…"

Kakashi stared at his village leader for a long moment, a frown deepening on his face until the muscles in his forehead ached in protest. He forced himself to relax, and then thought over his options of response.

"Forgive me," he finally decided on, glancing once again to the ceiling, "but I'm not sure I'm following. What does his leave have to do with him attacking me at random in the dark? Was this an assignment?"

"No, no," Hiruzen was quick to say, brow furrowing. "Kigen is… Well…" After a brief hesitation, he sighed again. "I suppose you deserve to know, what with this trouble he's put you through… Kigen Ryoiki was on mandatory leave for 6 months—for rehabilitation."

"Rehabilitation?" Kakashi repeated.

Outside the windows, a pair of feet dropped down, followed by the ANBU's—Hawk's; Kigen's?—lithe body as he re-alighted on the roof's slope. He held a bird's nest in his hand now, and despite being unable to see his face, Kakashi thought he looked utterly confused as to what to do with it. "For what?"

"Illegal stimulants." The answer came plain and simple. "And some… rather important social issues."

Kakashi's eyebrows went up, though the Hokage wouldn't be able to see his reaction. His own mask made sure of that.

But… an addict? Forced on leave… and now allowed back in?

The Hokage seemed to understand his silence and responded accordingly. "He's been clean for 5 of those 6 months, as the report tells me. Ibiki Morino oversaw his recovery personally. Low signs of lasting psychological effects…"

"Of course…" Kakashi's tone conveyed just how little he believed that. This was the same ANBU that had attacked him out of the blue in the middle of a deserted street. It made a bit more sense now, considering he'd just been released from the asylum.

But, he'd analyzed his chakra pathways with his Sharingan during the fight. There hadn't been signs of any external sways, which certainly would have shown up had Ryoiki been under the influence—wouldn't they?

"Don't worry; I'm not allowing him straight back onto the field," said the Hokage, glancing out the window again. There, Kigen seemed to have set the nest beneath the window, and now took a scrupulous step back, placing his hands on his hips. "He's limited to D-ranks for now. However, I may have to allow him to move up to C-ranks, or he's bound to take all of the easy assignments from our genin…"

"An ANBU limited to D-ranks… Now I've seen it all." Kakashi sighed.

Of course, this still didn't explain the ex-addict's seemingly random attack. Why then? And why Kakashi? Ugh, it was making his head hurt…

"I'll talk to him," the Sandaime finally offered, face an open display of sympathy. "And I'll make sure this doesn't happen again."

Would that be enough? Kakashi didn't bother to voice this out loud; the Hokage had been accommodating enough as it was. He bowed at the waist. "Thank you, Sandaime-sama."

"You're very welcome." The old man smiled, strained though it was. "You are dismissed."

As he straightened, Kakashi noticed that Hawk had disappeared.

Pushing the strangeness of it all from his mind, he made his exit and re-entered the open hallway immediately outside the office. He gave the ANBU hidden in the walls a nod of acknowledgement, and then began walking down the green-carpeted hallway. Silence surrounded him, and he took the moment to reanalyze the information he'd just been given.

He now had all the new intel on Kigen Ryoiki to ponder. And then, there was what Kigen himself had said to him just before vanishing after their fight.

 _"You really are as good as they say."_

He'd sounded patronizing, with a hint of genuine awe. It made Kakashi cringe.

Footsteps approached from down the hallway ahead of him. The Copy Nin gave pause, listening to the gait—slow, easy. The chakra signature was placid and relatively docile, but a telltale dark blue color.

Kakashi came to a halt, awaiting the reappearance of the dark stranger.

The other shinobi rounded the bend at last, hands in his pockets as he walked, his face still masked. Still, Kakashi knew he saw him; he could feel his gaze on him.

Kakashi waited. Kigen Ryoiki kept walking, deliberate and casual, and passed right by on the Copy Ninja's left. For a short moment, Kakashi could see his gold eyes through the narrow slits in his mask, sharp and critical, analyzing him head to toe. The blue-haired ANBU took two steps past Kakashi, and then stopped.

A tense beat of silence followed, and then he spoke.

"Didn't sleep well last night, hm?" he asked, a lilt of condescension in his voice, but mostly a strange sense of curiosity. Just like his head tilt.

Kakashi frowned and glanced back at him. Was it really that obvious? Perhaps he really did look like a dead cat… he hadn't bothered to find a mirror since last night. Kigen still hadn't turned to look at him.

"As a matter of fact," Kakashi muttered.

The taller man's shoulders shook with a clipped laugh. "I do apologize for my previous behavior. But as you've been told, I'm not entirely back to my old self yet."

He had to be referring to the conversation Kakashi had just finished. Which meant he'd been listening. Which honestly came as no surprise, and Kigen was doing nothing more than confirming his arrogance by sounding so pleased with himself.

"Eavesdropping, hm?" Kakashi posed casually.

Kigen laughed a little more. "Oh, no, I don't need to eavesdrop to know what you were discussing. It was only a matter of time before you came to the one person you knew would have answers concerning our unorthodox first meeting. I did think you'd come sooner and of your own volition, however. No matter. By your short session and quick retreat, I suspect you didn't get all the information you were hoping for."

Kakashi's frown darkened.

Still, without turning around, Kigen sighed. "Don't look like that. It's nothing so sinister. You might've come straight to me, is all; it would have been much simpler."

"Sandaime-sama summoned me here to report what you did," Kakashi corrected. "In return, he told me who you are."

"You've been in the ANBU for 6—no… 5 years, and you've never heard of me?" Finally, the navy-haired shinobi turned around. He sighed, and reached up to remove his mask. His revealed face displayed open chagrin. "Well, that's disappointing." Eyebrows twitching down, he shook his head.

"I knew your mask," Kakashi said, "but that was it. Sorry to disappoint you."

"I blame this government's method of compartmentalization." Kigen rolled his eyes. "Secretive, suspicious lot who don't grasp the full concept of a working unit."

Kakashi blinked. Well, that was the first thing the other shinobi had said that was almost normal.

But who in ANBU was normal, really?

"As for my reasons," Kigen continued, a smirk spreading across his pale face, "those are simple. You're a legend among Konoha nin. I tend not to take things by word of mouth, and I had a lot of time to think about my coworkers in that hospital… I don't like the idea of wasting my time and energy, so I made a list of people I wanted to test my skill against after I got out—to be sure I still had my edge, of course. Quite the short one, too… You were at the top. And it's as easy as that."

"You attacked me without explanation… to test your skills?" Kakashi summed up, still not sure he believed a word of it.

"That's the truth. Of course, if you won't believe me, you'll go home and continue to misuse hours of energy and much-needed rest trying to figure out the whys of it." Kigen's smirk widened.

Kakashi stared at the other ANBU, and found himself utterly lacking words to respond. Kigen had summed it up neatly. There was no deceit in the operative's words or body language. For now, there was no use deliberating over something so straightforward. If he was lying, he'd be found out shortly. ANBU were always under close watch by T&I, and for an operative so recently loosed from rehabilitation, Kigen doubly so. And if what he said was true… well, Kigen would still be found out. Psychopaths could only last so long without getting caught. Either way, Kigen's freedom would be short-lived. So, as his mind reined itself under the new logical insight, Kakashi found himself relaxing.

Not letting his guard down, by any means, but relaxing.

"So it was all for a twisted game of yours?" Kakashi, falling back to his usual unaffected exterior, offered the Hawk ANBU one last chance in case he was wrong, and the latter wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Mm-hm," came the response in affirmative. The man's smirk broadened into a flash of teeth. "And I will say: you surpassed my expectations, Hatake-san."  
Kakashi took a single, subtle step back. "Is that so?"

Kigen nodded. "Rumors tend to exaggerate, and considering some of the stories circulating in your favor, I expected skill, but I underestimated the concentration. The stories seem to be true." With a jerk of his head, Kigen raised his chin to look down his nose. "I don't say that to very many people."

Kakashi stared at him blankly, allowing the arrogance to slide over him without effect. It took more than inflated ego to break an ANBU's mask.

"Think what you like," said the other ANBU, blinking his eyes closed. When he opened them again, the arrogance was gone, and replaced by the very same cold calculation. "I have an appointment with the Sandaime to finish. Something about… 'social requirements'." Again, the dark-haired operative rolled his eyes, and with that, turned back around, lowered his mask back into place, and continued on his way, his long hair swaying with his stride.

Kakashi stared after his back, and then dropped his gaze to the floor between his feet.

What an odd shinobi… A new acquaintance—was this good or bad?


	35. Tenzo Is Done: Bit Not Good

**Tenzo Is Done: Bit Not Good, Yeah**

 **Date Posted: 10/3/16**

 **Word Count: 1217**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
**

 **fluffpenguin: Heh, it's a start. XP However, this arc that's starting below has to finish before we get to see more of Kigen.**

 **yonomori: Thanks! I really enjoy writing Kigen.**

 **A big thanks to everyone who followed and faved as well! Hope you enjoy this new arc. Should be a bit shorter than the last few...**

 **~Penelope**

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Some things would never change, would they?

Kakashi hung back near the door as Team Ro—Panther not included, as he was off on a solo mission to the Land of Rice—returned to the sanctum of their locker room, and he watched as Tenzo scooped Frog's discarded and sweaty flak jacket, arm guards, and gloves off the floor, like he always did. Then the wood-style user proceeded to gather the rest of her things as she left a trail of reckless abandon in her wake.

"Dang, it's like those things are designed to make breathing harder…" she bemoaned, taking a moment to stretch her arms and roll her shoulders. She'd finally begun to act more comfortable in her own skin, since the whole Frog vs. Badger incident two weeks prior.

"They're not that bad," said Itachi from the back of the room, while he removed his own gear. Across from him, Otter gave his flak jacket an appraising look.  
Lizard took off his red-accented mask, revealing his milky white eyes squinted in mirth. "Maybe you're just getting bigger."

Hana leapt in front of him, jabbing a fist in his face. "You wanna say that again, baldy!?"

"Sure," smirked the Hyuga, leaning down to her level. "I said you might just be getting wider than you are tall, short stuff."

That made Hana shriek and swing a solid right hook straight for Hokamaru's face. The Hyuga just ducked out of the way, and the female ANBU's punch landed an impressive dent in the locker behind him. This made her yowl all the louder, this time with some added expletives, hopping away to nurse her likely-aching hand.

"Oi, don't deface government property," Kakashi said, sticking his hands in his pockets and once again feeling glad of his mask. It hid a smirk that would have otherwise encouraged his troublesome teammates.

"Geez, Frog," said Tenzo as he neatly placed the woman's gear in her locker without her notice. She never noticed—another thing that amused Kakashi to no end. "Control yourself. You're not a genin anymore."

"Yeah," droned Badger from where she was sprawled on one of the benches, unenthused as usual, "these sorts of things embarrass the whole team. We have a reputation to uphold."

 _Rich, coming from you…_

"Oh, screw you," was Hana's intelligent response.

"Besides, we all know Lizard's an idiot," Tenzo continued, returning to Kakashi's side with an air of calm - per the usual. "You're in top physical condition. You have no reason to be defensive."

Hokamaru frowned a moment, but his smirk soon returned. "Yes, but in top physical condition for who - men or women? You should really be specific, Cat, since you seem to struggle with that sometimes."

Tenzo's calm exterior crumbled into an expression of defeat, and he groaned in exasperation. "This again…"

"Yeah!" Hana chimed in, turning her wrath on the ex-Root member. "You think some stupid sappy comment like that is gonna make me feel better, coming from you?"

"I said I was sorry! Your henge was just…"

"JUST A HENGE, YOU IDIOT!"

Tenzo shifted into a sheepish, apologetic stance, amplified by his big, dark eyes, which were perfect for such a kicked puppy look. "I'm sorry…"

"You know, it really does worry me," said Hokamaru, a sort of false concern in his white eyes. He set his mask and arm guards in his locker, and started peeling off his vest. "Was it just Frog, or do you have the same trouble with telling genders apart in general?"

Kakashi glanced at the member in question, only to find the younger man's face being quickly overtaken by a blush.

"No!" Tenzo defended himself.

Hokamaru plowed on. "How about your own gender? You ever feel confused about that? Is that why you hang around Kakashi-taichou all the time?"

This elicited a burst of laughter from Frog, and even a chuckle from Badger. Kakashi himself had to cover up a snort with a rather pathetically faked cough.  
Tenzo's horrified face was just too priceless.

A conniving little idea wormed its way into Kakashi's mind, and, feeling particularly good after the last mission's success, decided to keep with the casual atmosphere and roll with it. He slung an arm over Tenzo's shoulders and gave him a halfhearted squeeze.

"Oh, yes, didn't you know?" he told Hokamaru, plastering a smile on his face. "We're secretly dating. Not the best setting for a relationship, considering either of us could die any day, but you know-"

Tenzo practically threw Kakashi's arm away from him and shoved him aside, hard. "Get off!" His blush had only intensified, and Kakashi couldn't resist going further.

"Aw, you wound me, kohai. After all that we've meant to each other!" Kakashi clutched at his chest, trying not to let his rising laughter ruin a perfectly good line. "Such rejection; I don't know how I'll go on…"

Hokamaru had joined Hana in laughter at this point, Tsuki's chuckling had grown louder, and even Otter, mask now removed, was covering his mouth to suppress his amusement. Itachi, however, stood at the back with rather watchful eyes. But that was just Itachi.

Kakashi, pleased with the reactions he was receiving from his teammates (not to mention the best atmosphere they'd had for months), turned back to the brunt of the joke, palms up in supplication. "Don't push me away, Zo-chan! Let's talk about this!"

That got Suzume to crack up. Itachi's eyebrows twitched lower.

Tenzo, red flowering deeper across his face and ears, glanced between all of them with anxious jerks of his head, could only grind his teeth harder and harder. Until finally, he threw his hands in the air and turned on his heel, swatting Kakashi's hands away in the same motion.

"You know what?" he grumbled, striding toward the door. He didn't pause until he'd reached the exit. "Forget it. I'm done." In one fluid motion, he opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it shut. The sound rendered the others silent, and reverberated through the locker room, somewhat like the toll of a city bell.

"Oooooohhh," Hokamaru crooned at length. His grin returned full force. "You made him mad, Kakashi-taichou!"

Kakashi stared at the door, a bit bewildered himself and none too sure what he'd done. It wasn't as if they didn't make Tenzo the receiving end of a good laugh regularly. Usually, he was quite good natured. And after this last mission, they had needed this - they had unwound, quickly and easily. Hana and Hokamaru's bickering had ceased within seconds. Even Badger had laughed, at least a little.

"Maybe you shouldn't have done that," Itachi piped up from the corner. All eyes turned to him.

Hokamaru spoke first. "Yeah, and why not?"

Itachi gestured toward the door. "He didn't even take off his gear…"

"So what?" Hana snapped.

Kakashi spoke before things could escalate again, stuffing his hands right back in his pockets. His joke was over, after all. "Just give him some time to cool off. He'll take a walk, maybe stop for some ramen, and come back when he's ready."

Though he looked skeptical, a few moments passed and Itachi seemed to back down. He eyed the team captain. "If you're sure…"

"I am. I know Tenzo. He bounces right back."


	36. Tenzo Is Done: Four Days Later

**Tenzo Is Done: Four Days Later**

 **Date Posted: 10/13/16**

 **Word Count: 1666**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **fluffpenguin: Kakashi was the POV character in the previous chapter. :) So, the 'rich, coming from you' was his thought directed at Badger/Tsuki. Considering in the last arc, Tsuki didn't give a crap about the team's reputation and almost started a brawl with Hana in public... Kakashi's not impressed with her whole 'these sorts of things embarrass the whole team' bit.**

 **This chapter continues the Tenzo Is Done arc! This one won't be so long as the others. XP Let me know what you guys think in the reviews! Do you think Tenzo was overreacting, or is he in the right?**

 **~Penelope**

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"Has anyone seen my arm-guard!?" Hana shrieked, rummaging through her storehouse of a locker and unloading all sorts of bric-a-brac everywhere. A box of unused kunai spilled over the floor with a chorus of clanks. A canteen hit the floor at Hokamaru's feet - would've hit his toes if he hadn't jumped away with a rather explicit curse. Kakashi himself moved his head a few inches to the right in order to avoid a flying box of mold-ridden dango.

"Hey, who's turning in this last mission report?" Otter asked, halting in his after-duty routine.

"I can't find my arm-guard!" Hana reiterated.

"Report, Kakashi-taichou's responsibility," Badger said from the other side of the room, somewhere behind Kakashi while the latter withered at the prospect of paperwork.

"Yeah, he has no one to pawn it off on now," Itachi added, and Kakashi gave his youngest comrade a wounded look. The Uchiha was usually so sympathetic…

Unfortunately, he had a very good idea why they were all in this mess, but he was reluctant to say anything out loud, since it would make him indirectly responsible.

"Watch where you're throwing this stuff!" Hokamaru objected as he dodged a tissue box that came flying toward his face.

Itachi, forced to walk through the line of fire between them to reach his locker, ducked under a stray sock and hopped over a group of tumbling books.

Unfortunately, not even a highly trained Sharingan could predict the movement of something inanimate, and he stepped down on a book corner. He faltered, flailed, only to be caught by the Hyuga next to him.

"Look, you even managed to trip an Uchiha!" accused said-Hyuga.

"SHUT UP!" Hana pulled her head and arms from inside her locker and whirled, her ever-present anger swelling in her green eyes. "I'm about to leave on a mission and I can't find my gear!"

"Well, where did you leave it last?" Kakashi tried to think of where she'd tossed the thing last time she unloaded after a mission, but found most of the details a little fuzzy. He was never good with specifics, unless he was really trying…

"I don't know!" the kunoichi in question whined, deflating. "I've never had to keep track before! They're usually waiting for me in my locker."

"Have you looked in your locker?" Badger deadpanned.

"I JUST DID, MORON!" Hana chucked a spare sandal at the other female member of Team Ro, who deflected the blow with her forearm without flinch. "They're not here!"

"Are you telling me that you just toss your stuff after every mission, and it just magically appears in your locker for next time?" Hokamaru gave her and her locker an appraising look. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Are you calling me a liar!?" Frog waved an accusatory finger in the Hyuga's face. "Look, I don't know how it happens, only that it does but now it hasn't and I'm missing some of my gear!" She clenched her fists, looking to the ceiling. "If I don't find it, then I'll be forced to decline my mission!"

"Sheesh," Tsuki droned. "Just pick up a spare from the equipment office before you leave."

"But…" Hana's furrowed eyebrows twitched. "But it's my arm-guard… we've been through thick and thin together! I can't just replace it!"

"You can for this one mission," said Kakashi, tired of hearing her voice ring in his ears. For a woman, she sure could be loud, and honestly, he was starting to feel sheepish enough as it was. He didn't need her obliviousness adding to his buckling conscience. "You can work on finding it again when you get back."

"Oh, of course you'd be so calloused, taichou!" she blurted, back to her anger. "You go through gear like a player goes through girls!"

"Wow…" Hokamaru muttered.

Kakashi sighed. "Don't you think that's overkill?"

"It is not!" Hana snarled. "You have no appreciation for the things that allow you just to do your job every day!"

"We're digressing…" Itachi said with an inconspicuous cough, earning a blip on Frog's radar. She rounded on him with a ferocious scowl.

"NOBODY ASKED YOU, MARMOT!"

This coaxed even Itachi Uchiha into a dry, unimpressed expression. "Still not the same thing as a weasel."

Vein bulging in her forehead, she threw her head back and shrieked. "I. DON'T. CARE!"

"Obviously," Tsuki sighed, sprawling on the bench to Kakashi's right.

Kakashi took in the members of Team Ro as the locker room descended into further chaos. Frog continued screaming, at Tsuki, then at Hokamaru, then at Itachi, and even at Suzume, who'd remained by his locker as to avoid being noticed by the furious kunoichi. Hokamaru and his sarcasm didn't help anything, and even the generally quiet Itachi had been pulled into a ridiculous argument about marmots.

He couldn't help the weary sigh that swelled in his lungs. _Some team we are. Look at us._

"What is going on here?"

The booming baritone caught everyone off guard, seeing as they'd all been too concerned with Hana to remember to keep their senses outstretched and honed. Kakashi felt a pitch of disappointment - in all of them, himself included. How much more dysfunctional could they get if they couldn't even feel someone coming into their own locker room?

He turned around to follow the others' gazes, and found himself staring at the collar of a fellow ANBU - a tall one. And he was close. He glanced up, and discovered a blank-faced mask he knew quite well.

"Panther," he declared, mostly for his own benefit. His brain was still catching up to everything. The fact that it needed to catch up at all was a testament to his stress level. He needed a nap… "You're back."

The scruffy blond removed his mask, revealing the alarmingly delicate face behind it. Mo Akarui let his gaze rove over those gathered in the locker room, his violet eyes hooded by his thick blond lashes. When that gaze returned to Kakashi, the latter got the feeling Mo had already put things together in his mind.

After all, there was still one member missing.

"Did I miss something?" he asked, deep voice even and without accusation.

"You were gone for two weeks," said Tsuki, in the same manner Tsuki ever said anything. "Of course you missed something. Be more specific."

Mo sighed, and Kakashi braced himself for the insightful question to come. He was right to do so.

"Is Cat on a mission?" the tall man said.

The entire room went silent.

At length, Kakashi decided he ought to be a man and speak up first, but Hokamaru beat him to it.

"Cat's being a crybaby, that's what he's doing," the Hyuga said with spite. He folded his arms over his chest. "He got over-sensitive and he's been pouting for _four days_. He hasn't even shown up in the mornings to help time my jogs."

Mo's eyebrows rose. "That's a while… What's this he got 'over-sensitive' about?"

"They were just teasing him." Tsuki folded her arms behind her head. "Nothing to get so upset over. He certainly doesn't have to shun us…"

By the way Mo's eyebrows twitched, Kakashi knew he wasn't convinced. So it surprised him when his next reply lacked any added pressure.

"I see…" The team medic left it at that, and moved to push past the obstacle currently blocking his path.

Kakashi slipped his hands into his pockets and stepped aside to let the older ANBU pass him by. "I was going to track him down today, actually. Hopefully, to clear some things up."

Mo nodded as he approached his locker, unstrapping his armguards and setting them in his locker. "That's a good idea."

Hokamaru started sniggering, drawing Kakashi's gaze to him. Feeling the Hatake's stare, he tried to quiet himself - tried being the key word - and gave the Copy Nin a pointed look. "Gonna go end this lovers' spat?"

Kakashi was fully prepared to respond in kind with a casual affirmative, but when Team Ro's oldest member glanced suspiciously over his shoulder, his words swelled with guilt and rather than flow with their usual finesse, they stuck in his throat instead. He wound up choking on them, and managed to turn it into an awkward clearing of his throat.

When he'd gotten a handle on himself, he sent a level but pointed look in the Hyuga's direction. "Funny the first time, Liz. Not so much the second."

White eyes narrowed with a frown. "Wha…?"

Before he could be questioned anymore, Kakashi turned on his heel and headed for the door. He forewent changing completely from his uniform. He'd switched jackets and left his Wolf mask in his locker, so that would be enough for now.

"Wish me luck," he offered with a half-hearted wave, before abandoning them to their questions.

Tenzo had been gone long enough. Hana wasn't the only one who had missed his absence, as loud as her reaction was compared to the others. It probably was time he stopped hiding in the locker room and did something about it.

More than that, he didn't want to spend more time than he had to under the critical eyes of his senior. Eyes that reminded him that he really should have made this effort sooner. Like, perhaps right after the offense was made.

Mo Akarui was the oldest of them at 28. Despite being a valuable part of the ANBU Black Ops for almost 14 years, the man was stable and strong, got along brilliantly with people, had a side job, a house, and still found time to take care of his grandmother. He was the tantamount of what an operative should be.

So to have that kind of role model eyeing him with distrust hit a bit closer to home than he would ever admit.

And if he was truly honest with himself, he was really starting to feel that empty space Tenzo had left behind.


	37. Tenzo Is Done: I'm Sorry?

**Tenzo is Done: I'm Sorry?**

 **Date Posted: 10/25/16**

 **Word Count: 2261**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **fluffpenguin: heh. You'll have to see. XP**

 **X-Chick303: It didn't change. But in the My Crush, Kakashi arc, we learned that it's just a henge she keeps up. She disguises herself as a man when on duty in order to make others take her seriously. Because she's insecure like that.**

 **Shout out to everyone who followed/faved! It's awesome getting notifications in my inbox from you. I'm so glad people seem to be enjoying this fic!**

 **Lately, I've been trying to brainstorm the direction this story is going, and after this arc is finished, I plan on pulling back on the fluff and getting into some of the darker stuff... not to say there won't be fluff mixed in with it, but I'm ready to follow through on my warning from the summary. So... yeah. Erm, something to look forward to? Maybe? I suppose we'll see.**

 **Anyway, thanks again all! Don't forget to leave a review! :D**

 **~Penelope**

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Kakashi alighted on the sunlit window sill, disturbing it as much as a feather disturbs the grass. With a pulse of chakra, he pried open the window that was meant to open from the inside. The pane slid aside, wood frame grating in its rut. For a brief moment, the glass glared sun into his eyes, punishment for disturbing the window's peace. Kakashi shoved it on until the glare subsided, and the way into the room beyond was clear.

Only a single auburn-haired chuunin occupied said-room, his back to the window. He glanced over his shoulder, and amber eyes widened.

"Hatake-san!" the young man leapt up from his chair behind the old oak desk of the Missions Office, and fumbled with his sheaf of papers. When he finally managed to get a handle on himself and his paperwork, he set the latter aside and approached the Copy Nin's spot at the window. He glanced to and fro, like somebody might be watching, despite him being the only paperwork ninja currently in the vast, empty room. "What are you doing here?" he hissed with his head low.

"Hello to you too, Kaoru." Kakashi offered him a crescent-eyed smile. "First off, I'm turning in a mission report."

Kaoru's eyebrows rose, and he turned to dig through a stack of files on the desk top nearby. "But… you haven't been on a solo for at least two weeks."

"It wasn't a solo."

"You're turning in a report for a team mission?"

"…Yes." Kakashi held the mildly-creased report out for the younger ninja to take. He tilted his head up, eager to divert from this line of questioning. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all!" Kaoru dropped the file and hurried to take the paper from the ANBU. He frowned at it and fussed with the crinkled edges. "It's just… we usually receive the group mission reports from Tenzo."

 _Of course you do. He's the only one who doesn't hate doing it._

"Speaking of Tenzo," Kakashi figured now was as good a time as any to broach the subject, considering that was the more important reason he came here, "you haven't seen him around lately, have you?"

"Well, sure." The chuunin jerked his head toward the desk behind him. "He was in here just this morning, turning in his own report."

Kakashi raised his eyebrows. "A report for what, if I may ask?"

"You… didn't know? Sorry, I just assumed, since you're the captain and all…"

Kaoru seemed to interpret the glare Kakashi sent him for what it meant, and with a clearing of his throat, got to the point. "A solo mission. Can't say I had the security clearance to ask for more details when I turned it over to Hokage-sama."

"I see…" A solo mission, eh? So Tenzo had been keeping busy. Kakashi wasn't sure whether to be pleased or offended. The last time Tenzo had gone on a solo mission without alerting his team—or his taichou, at the very least—was back when he was in the Foundation. That thought alone was enough to deepen Kakashi's frown into one of concern.

"After that," Kaoru continued, "he went with Iruka on his lunch break. They haven't returned yet. But you could hang around; they shouldn't be long."

One recollection of Tenzo's glare persuaded Kakashi that such a thing wouldn't be the wisest decision. Even still, his curiosity had doubled now, tightening his frown with it. It was one thing for Tenzo to be put out by the team's treatment. But why would Tenzo take a solo mission without consulting his team? Had it come straight from the Hokage? And now—lunch break? With some nameless paperwork ninja? Why?

It certainly made no sense, but it was no use sitting around trying to puzzle it through. He covered his confusion up with a pleasant smirk for the poor, intimidated chuunin's sake. "Well, thanks for letting me know. I'll be vacating your window now."

He didn't bother giving Kaoru a chance to ask any more bothersome questions. With a leap worthy of an elite ANBU, he took to the rooftops, dashing over ledges and shingles in search of a place that a certain paperwork ninja might take his lunch break.

 _Where does he eat? Think, Hatake, think… Aha!_

In his generation, the dango shop downtown was the place where all the young ninjas flocked after a hard day on the field. In this up and coming one, there was a different shop that garnered the youths' attention. A particular noodle shop that had actually been up for some time.

He adjusted his trajectory to land him in the middle of the bazaar district. More shinobi than usual were milling about this time of day - food tended to do that. Within seconds of alighting on an overlooking balcony, sure enough, Kakashi spotted a puffy brown ponytail moving through the mealtime crowd. Walking just beside Iruka Umino was another familiar figure, with short hair kept at bay by a characteristic faceguard.

For a short second, Kakashi mused that he'd never actually seen Tenzo off duty. Clad in the standard issue navy uniform usually worn by the average shinobi (ix-nay the flak jacket), he looked almost normal, and definitely non-threatening. Not that he was ever really threatening in the first place.

He'd also never seen the wood-style user's hair so short.

Then, pushing aside further pondering, he hopped down amidst the people, not two feet behind his fellow ANBU. The latter failed to react, though Umino did a full foot jump at his sudden appearance. Meanwhile, Tenzo continued on chattering conversationally—something about a temple.

Kakashi sauntered up and fell in step beside the younger ninjas. Iruka watched him with wide eyes and seemed successfully diverted from his break. But Tenzo had yet to even turn his head.

Kakashi knew his skills too well to be fooled into believing he hadn't heard his approach. Still, how did one get the attention of somebody intentionally ignoring you?

Be polite, of course.

He cleared his throat and fell into an easy, relaxed facade. "Yo."

Iruka responded first, snapping shut his gaping mouth and giving a hurried 'hello, er, Hatake-san' in reply. Tenzo very pointedly ignored the greeting, having fallen into silence instead. He kept his dark eyes angled downward, at his feet with relative disinterest.

"Headed to lunch?" he asked, hoping casual conversation would be the best angle to play.

"Uh…" Iruka still seemed uneasy with the prospect of talking with one of the Leaf's most notable ninja as if they were best friends, but at least he was talking. "Yes… I'm on my break. We were just headed to Ichiraku's."

"I didn't know you liked ramen, Tenzo." Kakashi chanced a direct address. It was a legitimate response, and surely, the people-aware 15-year-old wouldn't be so blatantly rude. It wasn't his nature.

Sure enough, Tenzo finally raised his head and looked at him, as if noticing him for the first time. "Oh—Hatake-san. Hello."

As much as the foreign address made him wither, he couldn't help but acknowledge that he did rather deserve that.

"Actually, I happen to appreciate the effort Teuchi-san puts into his dishes," the wood-style user continued, folding his arms over his chest. "I respect his skill and the passion he has for his work."

Kakashi found himself stuck in yet another awkward silence then, considering he wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Something about the curt fashion in which the explanation was delivered only made things worse. It wasn't worth the effort, making Tenzo acknowledge him, not if he was going to go about it so coldly. It was so bizarre.

"That's probably why he's the best cook in the village," said Iruka, much more relaxed in addressing his peer.

 _His peer? They're not even remotely on the same level…_

"Mind if I join you?" Kakashi asked, offering his trademark smile. All the grinning was beginning to make his face ache—he hadn't smiled so much at once in a very long time. But he was trying to make a good impression.

"Well-" Iruka began.

"Actually, we were in the middle of a conversation," said Tenzo evenly. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to get back to it—without intrusion. Surely you understand."

 _…Okay then._ It was a rare moment indeed when Tenzo managed to catch him off with such raw passive aggression. Tenzo was usually the straightforward, honest one who minced no words and got straight to the point.

Obviously, this situation was somehow different. Very different. His mind raced to try and fit these new pieces into the puzzle his team member had imposed on him.

It was plain to see this approach was getting them nowhere. So, with a weary sigh, Kakashi decided now was as good a time as ever to broach the subject he'd come to address.

"Look, Tenzo," he said, allowing some of his genuine contrition to leak into his words. There was no way he would go as far as Gai often did in his dramatic apologies, but he owed his ANBU comrade sincerity, at least. "It's understandable why you're upset."

This seemed to catch Tenzo's attention and earned Kakashi a rather dry look. "Is it?"

"Yes. But it should also be understandable that the team falls apart without you around. Frog can't find her things, Lizard's a grouch, and Badger has no filter. Even Otter's been more anxious than usual." The Copy Nin sent his target the best kicked-dog look that he could manage. "And now, I hear you've been taking solo missions without notifying the rest of us."

"There's no law that says I'm obligated to do that." The stiff wall was back up, and Tenzo again refused to look at him. "Besides, if you must know, I received that mission from the Hokage himself."

The Hokage? Why would the Hokage assign Tenzo a solo mission without even notifying Kakashi as team captain? It was a possibility that it was all just happy coincidence, but that was highly unlikely, considering that if the Hokage was completely unaware, Kakashi would've received some kind of alert from him when one of Team Ro's operatives was sent out.

That left the other possible explanation: that Tenzo had mentioned what happened to the Hokage himself.

Either way, Tenzo had a point. And Kakashi was still no nearer to accomplishing what he came for.

"What I'm trying to say is," the Copy Nin said, "I apologize."

Tenzo had no initial reaction beyond silence, and it stretched on long enough to make Iruka fidget. Kakashi, on the other hand, gave his comrade as much time as he felt he needed. Despite being emotion-driven for the most part, the ex-Root operative was a thoughtful, practical person. That in mind, it shouldn't have taken long for him to sigh and accept the apology, as he had in the past.

Then again, something about this whole thing seemed off, and he thought perhaps he shouldn't be so quick to assume.

When Tenzo's eyebrows arched promptingly, he knew he was right. There was something more, something he was missing.

"For letting things get out of hand like they did," he elaborated.

Tenzo frowned, and he got the sinking feeling that maybe there was more he needed to puzzle through before he attempted this again. Just as he started searching for the correct phrasing, Tenzo spoke up.

"Is that all?" Tenzo jerked his head in the general direction behind Kakashi, with a vague gesture of his hand. "Because we're here, and I think we've wasted enough of Iruka's lunch break."

"Uh, actually-" Iruka started, looking prepared to shrug the insinuation off in a desperate attempt not to get involved.

"It's okay, Umino-kun." Tenzo offered the anxious chuunin a reassuring smile. "Hatake-san was just leaving. Then you can finish telling me about the field trip your class went on."

"Uh…" was all the paperwork ninja could manage.

Kakashi found he could articulate no better, especially when faced with the pointed glare of his fellow ANBU, which very clearly stated that he had better butt out now. Who knew what would happen should he continue to push the issue?

Obviously, there was some more pondering he had to do before he could figure out what exactly Tenzo wanted from him.

"Good afternoon, Hatake-san." Tenzo's level gaze spoke more of his finality than his words belied. He sounded polite and cordial, but there was a simmering frustration just underneath them, and the last time Kakashi had heard that tone was just before then-Kinoe attempted to kill him under the justification that Kakashi himself had once done so to a comrade.

"Uh…" There wasn't much more he could think to say in response, and he knew it was better to back down now than risk further damage. Besides, he seemed to be making a fool of himself at this point. "Right." He raised a hand in a placating wave. "Enjoy your lunch."

"Thanks." With a final warning glance, Tenzo turned back to the dumbfounded Iruka and picked up the conversation right where it had left off—discussing some old ruins Iruka had apparently recently visited.

 _Oh boy…_ Opting not to linger, Kakashi flashed straight to the nearest roof, where he peered down on the inconspicuous ramen shop with an exasperated sort of ruefulness bubbling up in his gut.

 _Maybe this is going to be harder than I thought._


	38. Tenzo Is Done: Unexpected Houseguest

**Tenzo Is Done: Unexpected Houseguest**

 **Date Posted: 10/30/16**

 **Word Count: 2421**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
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 **fluffpenguin: Well, the way I see it, Tenzo is simply standing up for himself. :) There's nothing wrong with establishing boundaries in a friendship and while he's anything but graceful about it, he's trying. Just like Kakashi's trying to patch things up. There are areas where both could do better; that's what personal development is all about. And I think Tenzo is simply adjusting to his emotional freedom after years of stifling. As far as the Sandaime goes, I don't imagine he would get involved in Tenzo's personal affairs so long as they didn't effect his fieldwork. His performance as a shinobi hasn't diminished; it's simply his relationship with his team that's a bit strained. However, this installment wraps up this arc, and hopefully explains the whole mess better than I have here. :P**

 **Youkai Ryuu: Haha! XD Glad to see you're enjoying this!**

 **Unfortunately, I'm wrapping this arc up quickly so we can move on to the next one, so I hope you like this final installment of Tenzo Is Done! Let me know what y'all think in a review!**

 **~Penelope**

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Broken ribs hurt like H***. Every breath, a streak of fire. A lesser man would have no choice but to let the involuntary tears swell; they would come whether he wanted them to or not. But ANBU were no lesser men. Being ANBU took fortitude and a will petrified by the forge fire of pain. And when one was forged by pain, pain became second nature. Second nature became effortless.

Therefore, trudging through the shadows of a Konoha side street, guided along the way by hazy street lamps, with his ribcage pulsing in time with his heartbeat, was second nature to Kakashi. Blood seeped through shredded flak jacket as calloused fingers tried in vain to stifle the flow. The pain was superfluous. The trouble he had breathing… that was a bit more problematic.

"D*** Iwa nin…" the murmur left his lips for the dozenth time. Cursing the source of his pain did little to ease the stitch in his side, but at the very least, it made him feel a bit more satisfied when he imagined his curses actually going through. Perhaps that green-eyed b****** would fall in a well somewhere. Or maybe he would break a mirror, and maybe he was superstitious and would give himself bad luck by being too stupid to realize that luck didn't exist.

Around him, the buildings went from pristine and quaint, to run-down and shady. He was close, now. He was certainly in the right place. His single charcoal eye darted, gaze roving the storefronts in search of one in particular.

 _Sasaina… Ah. There._

Of course, the sign on the darkened front door said 'Closed'. A light peeked through curtains drawn over the first window on the second floor. The living room.

Clenching his jaw, Kakashi gathered himself and then launched up to the window, sending spider-cracks of burning discomfort across his side. He barely managed to grip the sill to avoid falling right back to the street.

"D***…" he moaned, resting the forehead of his mask against the glass. _Just for a second…_

The window lifted. Kakashi lost his hold and wavered. A large hand shot through the opened portal to latch onto his arm, steadying him.

The pane rose the rest of the way to reveal a man's delicate face furrowed with concern. The owner of the hand that kept him from a neck-breaking fall.

With blood-stained fingers, Kakashi raised his Wolf mask to offer what he hoped was an easy smile. "Good evening, senpai."

Mo's frown only deepened and he tugged Kakashi's arm gently. "Inside. Come on."

Kakashi readily obeyed and, with Mo's support, staggered into the cozy apartment. With his free hand, Mo shut the window behind him. The humid draft ceased.

"Bless the man who invented air-conditioning…" Kakashi muttered, taking a moment to appreciate the comfortable temperature.

"Let's get you to the couch," was Mo's only reply before the older shinobi ushered him further in, over a trodden red polyester rug, around an antique coffee table, to a plush brown sofa that was calling Kakashi's name. He needed very little prompting from his senior after that, and he sunk into the cushions with a weary sigh.

"Mo-san, what-" a third voice, familiar as Team Ro's bunker, preceded the appearance of its source in the doorway to the kitchenette. Dark eyes widened. "Taichou?"

 _Well, so he's speaking to me now._ Kakashi gave a half-hearted wave, like he would if he wasn't focusing on keeping his breaths even. "Hey, Tenzo…" The greeting came out more like a pathetic groan. Kakashi's hand returned to his side, clasping the gravest of his wounds.

Mo shook his head, and then addressed his younger guest. "Tenzo, could you start some tea please?"

Tenzo hesitated. Then he nodded and turned back into the kitchenette. "Sure."

Kakashi called after him. "Good talking to you."

"Take the flak jacket off," Mo ordered, striding around the couch to disappear out of Kakashi's range of vision. In the small bathroom Kakashi knew was behind him, he heard water run from the sink, and the sound of hands disrupting the stream.

With a grunt, Kakashi sat up just enough for room to remove his ruined jacket. It took his blood-slick fingers a few tries to grasp the zipper, and shrugging it off was like stabbing himself all over again, but he managed to wrangle the garment off his person, and discard it on the coffee table.

 _Another one bites the dust,_ he thought mournfully, gazing at the crimson-stained frays in the bone-grey fabric. They really needed a more efficient system for when flak jackets were damaged… it seemed wasteful to keep supplying new ones when the chances of them being damaged beyond repair were one in five.

Mo rounded the sofa's edge again, stopping by one of the end tables. Beneath the soft-glowing yellow lamp sat a pump bottle of hand sanitizer, which he gave a quick bop.

"By all rights, you should be in the hospital," the veteran said with another shake of his head.

"I hate hospitals," was the only explanation Kakashi gave. He didn't feel like elaborating.

"For somebody who hates hospitals, you sure manage to wind up as a patient a lot." Mo approached and knelt on the floor just beside Kakashi's feet, on his left. "Sit forward—elbows on your knees."

Kakashi did so despite the pain it caused him. Mo's large hands grew bright with green chakra, and he rested them over Kakashi's throbbing ribcage. For a long moment, they sat in moderately comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of discomfort from the patient as the medic's chakra stitched together what was broken.

As the smell of steeping herbs soon wafted over his head, Kakashi attempted conversation.

"So does Tenzo come here often?" It made sense that the wood-user wouldn't include Mo in his shunning of Team Ro. The veteran had been absent during the teasing episode, and probably wouldn't have condoned it anyway.

"He wants to learn the guitar," was Mo's answer. "I told him he should find a professional, but he wouldn't have it."

Kakashi raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know Tenzo was… well, musically inclined."

Mo gave him a pointed glance. "There's a lot about Tenzo you don't know."

 _Ouch._ Kakashi sighed, and winced when the premature gesture caused new pain to lance up his side. "I'll concede that point…"

"You hurt him, you know." Mo returned his violet gaze to his work and let his words do the pointed shaming instead.

Kakashi avoided eye contact right back. "I know. It's been a week now. I kinda thought he'd bounce back… He's too practical to be petty."

"It's not petty."

"Kind of is."

Mo sat back on his ankles, his soothing green glow receding. Kakashi could feel the weight of his gaze as it settled on him.

"You're his best friend, you know that, right?"

Kakashi didn't dare fidget, for risk of straining his newly healed tissue that wasn't even finished mending yet. He had a sneaking suspicion that Mo had done that on purpose.

"Do you understand why he's avoiding you?"

Kakashi shrugged, and regretted it. "He's angry. And embarrassed, I suppose."

"Wrong."

Kakashi blinked. "Well, you can't tell me he's not angry."

"No, but he isn't angry just to be angry." Mo shook his head. "You should know him better than that. You mocked his friendship—you, the person who pulled him from the deepest shadows in the Leaf."

"Shadow to shadow." The Hatake gave a dry, humorless laugh. Again, he wished he hadn't. "That's not much of a favor."

The resulting dry expression on Mo's face told Kakashi that the older man was not impressed. For a moment, he said nothing; green chakra again coated his hands. He put them back in place over Kakashi's wound, and only then did he speak.

"You made fun of his respect for you and turned it into the brunt of a rude joke. Don't tell me you don't understand why that was wrong."

"I'm not a child, Mo." Kakashi shot his subordinate a sharp glance. "I don't need you to parent me."

Mo stood. "The ribs are healed. The rest will have to be stitched." He stepped away, back toward the end table, where he opened up a drawer and rummaged through it.

"I regret taking the teasing so far," Kakashi elaborated, sternly now. "But that doesn't give an ANBU the excuse to give his team a cold shoulder for so long. We're all above petty grudges over hurt feelings."

"One-hundred and forty-seven." Mo straightened from his searching, drawing out a small pouch and a roll of gauze. Then he removed the shade off the lamp, casting brighter light around them. "Shirt off."

Kakashi frowned, even as he moved to follow the medic's orders. "What?"

"The number of missions I've been left behind for. One-hundred and forty-seven." Mo approached, opening the small pouch and withdrawing a rather intimidating needle. "ANBU are above petty grudges and hurt feelings, but that doesn't mean we don't have them. Did you know that no matter how much I rationalize getting left behind, it doesn't make it any easier or less painful?"

Kakashi hesitated. The first reply to jump to his tongue was 'maybe it should', but that would be the worst thing he could say at this moment. He knew his senior's history. He wished he didn't, wished none of it had happened in the first place. But he always thought Mo handled it more gracefully than anyone Kakashi knew.

Even so…

"Pain should be second nature to us," he murmured.

The elder sighed. "No matter how well I stitch this, it's going to leave a scar." Mo knelt beside him again, running chakra-laced fingers over the needle, sterilizing it. "Some wounds are just too deep."

With those words, Kakashi thought he began to understand. "Some," he said, "but not all."

Mo chuckled. "What do you think, hm? What if Tenzo hadn't left in a huff that day… What if he took the humiliation, the perversion of his closest friendship, maybe even pretended to laugh along?"

Pulling his blood-soaked shirt up and over his head, Kakashi discarded it alongside his ruined flak jacket and turned so that Mo had enough light on his side, where he could still feel the ooze of blood tickling his skin. The lamp at his back cast his face in shadow.

"We would've all laughed and moved on with our day," Kakashi answered.

"Maybe. And what about next time?" Mo rested gentle, professional hands on his ribs, uncomfortably close to the sore spot. "You really think Hokamaru would make a joke once and then let it lie?"

Kakashi hadn't thought of that. Now that he did, Mo was entirely right. Hokamaru had a mean streak, even if Kakashi found most of his humor in good taste. Others weren't so… thick-skinned as Kakashi was.

"So the same joke gets told again and again," Mo continued, "and everybody laughs at it every time. Suddenly, Tenzo can't be open and honest with you anymore for fear of getting pounced on. He can't be your friend without being the punchline of a lewd running gag. The camaraderie he's had up 'til now—gone. Because Hoka made a joke, and you played along."

Kakashi sighed, understanding dawning on him. Granted, it was emotional understanding, something he was very unfamiliar with… but it was something. It made sense, in a completely intangible way.

Then the Hatake sucked in a sharp breath as the needle dug into his flesh.

"Hold still," Mo muttered, working quickly. His fingers weaved with deft precision.

"So why didn't—ow!—Why didn't Tenzo just tell me this?" Kakashi clenched his jaw, counting the seconds until the medic was finished.

Mo actually laughed. "That would be because he's too kind for his own good. He was actually planning on heading back and just dealing with it, because he felt petty and missed the rest of you."

"I didn't!"

Kakashi glanced up, turning his face toward the kitchenette, where the subject of his and Mo's discussion stood silhouetted in the doorway. Tenzo tried valiantly to keep a brave face on, despite the red tinging his ears. He held a tray in his hands, on which sat three steaming mugs.

"I mean…" Tenzo cleared his throat, approaching slowly. "Maybe a little…"

Kakashi offered a smile, and Tenzo's tough face fell. "Well, you'd better believe we miss you around the bunker. I think Hana's permanently damaged my hearing, squawking for her missing gear. Ow! D*****, Mo…"

"Done." The medic, a smile of his own softening his eyes, rose from his crouch and took a step back to survey his work. "You should take it easy for a couple days… Let it heal."

"Yes, sir…" Kakashi muttered, easing back against the couch cushions, careful of his side. He never liked the periods of time between missions—always felt so restless. But some things couldn't be helped. Down time was an occupational hazard.

"I'm going to wash up. Don't drink my tea." With that, Mo retreated back to the small bathroom behind the sofa.

Tenzo hesitantly took a seat next to Kakashi, setting the tea tray on the coffee table in front of them. Then he took one of the mugs, and held it out to Kakashi. With another half-grin, Kakashi accepted it. Calloused fingers hardly felt the heat of the ceramic, and he took a quick sip from the rim. Tenzo drew up his own mug and cradled it between two hands.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around," the wood-user finally said. "I just… wanted to figure out how to… what to say."

"Mah… Don't worry about it." Kakashi shrugged, and for the umpth time, bit back a curse as his brand new stitches stretched. "It's… not gonna happen again."

Tenzo nodded slowly. "Right… I should've had thicker skin, though."

Kakashi couldn't decide if that was a good or bad conclusion. He and Tenzo knew better than most that thick skin could be an advantage, but it could also be a downfall. Like when friends were involved.

 _Friends… no, just friend. I've only got one._

"I actually meant that I'm breaking up with you," Kakashi said smoothly. He took another sip of his tea, and then leaned his head back against the sofa. "You're not my type."

Tenzo snorted. "Yeah, thanks."

"No problem, kohai."


	39. The Heart Wants: Body

**The Heart Wants: Body**

 **Date Posted: 11/15/16**

 **Word Count: 3840**

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
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 **fluffpenguin: These are just my personal opinions, so take them as you will: I've had personal experience with "friends" who did cruel things because they thought it was funny and then told me to lighten up when I expressed that it wasn't funny to me. In my opinion, that isn't how a healthy friendship should function. Now, if both individuals involved are okay with it and find it funny-great! They can joke around all they want. But if somebody _doesn't_ find it funny, then I believe a good friend would respect that and refrain from putting that particular friend in that position. Honestly, it was more than a joke, in Tenzo's case; he was being made the punchline, having others laugh at his expense. That's one of the worst feelings in the world.**

 **Meanwhile, we begin the next arc, The Heart Wants! We'll see the return of Kigen Ryoiki, whom those following might remember from the Like Someone Is Watching Me! Let me know what y'all think in a review!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

 _Log: August 3rd, 11:36 P.M._

 _The fragility of humans is a concept that never ceases to fascinate. We live our lives on such… limited terms. It's hard to fathom that we have any consequence to our existences at all. Who are we? Why are we here? Does anybody think upon these things? No. Of this, I'm quite certain. The human heart is far too bold, far too loud, far too selfish for such deep thoughts. The heart craves that which it believes will satisfy it—money, fame, romance. And too many—far too many—give in without a second thought. Corruption, death, heartbreak—the results of the heart's whims._

 _Why bother? Why try? No, it is far more intelligent to tame the heart, channel its desire. Seek to be better. Seek to advance not yourself, but the world around you. For you most certainly will die, and all that is left behind is this world, those you proclaimed to love, and the impression which your breath left on the atmosphere. Who's to say what comes next?_

 _The very fact of the unknown should incite us to do our best with the time that is given. Not to satisfy our selfish lusts out of desperate fear of the end—no, we must move beyond such primitive impulses. We are not all, and all does not exist to serve our happiness._

 _This world is teeming with potential—for excellence, for evolution. Utopia is a foolish, vain goal. But better? There is no reason not to strive for better._

 _But then the question becomes: who decides what better looks like?_

 _I have come to the end of my muse. Despite my desire, I cannot solve the world's problems in my mind. For all my superior wit, the answer to this puzzle of life forever escapes me._

 _So for now, I return to my frivolous experiments. Others look on and call me insane, but my findings will one day help many. I will instigate a leap—of what ideal, I am not certain. But I have determined to leave my footprint on this world before I must leave it. As Hawk of the ANBU, that reality is ever at my heels. Even if I am restricted in my mission selection._

 _This is my desire. I have mastered the art of unifying heart and mind. Neither control me. I will utilize both as the tools they are meant to be._

 _I only wish that others could find it in themselves to do the same._

* * *

"Come on, I'm not going to hurt you."

Tenzo wiggled the slab of clammy pork at arm's length, peering into the darkness of the alley in hopes of glimpsing its sole occupant. He knew she was there. She always was, despite the complete and utter lack of sustenance aside from the food and water he regularly brought her. He understood, really. It wasn't unreasonable for a dog to return to the only home it had known, simply because it knew no better.

However, he would have imagined that when given the choice between safe starvation or a risky meal, a desperate canine might jump for the latter. Perhaps he was mistaken.

Even so, he could still hear the music throbbing from the dimly-lit window two rooms down on the third floor… Juro's party, still in full swing, even at midnight.  
Tenzo sighed, relaxing his hand so that the pork chop hung limply between his fingers. "My noisy neighbors are going full-out tonight, huh… I bet that's what's scaring you." He glanced up with a rueful quirk of his lips. "Probably used that 300 ryos I lent him to buy tonight's stock of booze, too… I should really stop lending him money."

Juro always insisted he was doing his best to find work—he wasn't a shinobi, so job recommendations weren't exactly something Tenzo could give him. Tenzo could tell a slacker when he saw one… this particular one just happened to have an ex-wife and kid about a hundred miles away, to which Juro sent regular support funds. That was always what got Tenzo—imagining that child, growing up without a reliable father figure… His mother likely worked to make ends meet. Same old story. And it still swayed Tenzo into taking pity on the man who kept him up into the wee hours of the morning, regardless of Tenzo's looming work schedule.

Why did he do it? He never knew… He was still trying to find the balance between having no emotion at all, as Root had taught him, and cracking open his shell and allowing himself to feel. It was certainly a tightrope, and for the sake of his sanity, he'd have to find his balance soon.

 _I don't know how many more all-nighters I can take,_ he thought, leaning his head back against the alley wall. He really didn't like the idea of sleeping outside, but the concept was looking more and more appealing the longer he stayed out here…

He heard a sound and pried his eyes open. He hadn't realized they'd closed. He must have been more tired than he thought…

The sound repeated—a scuffle of claws on pavement. The slightest whimper. Tenzo sat up, holding the meat out.

"Here you go. It's right here."

Still, she didn't show herself. He could hear her, feel her just on the edge of his senses, just out of sight in the darkness. She refused to come nearer.

He repeated, in earnest. "Come on, I know you're hungry… Please?"

Glass shattered around the corner, overhead. Tenzo stiffened, dropped the pork, found himself on his feet in a blink and his ANBU instinct had him rushing out of the alley and into the stream of light from the corner street lamp, just as a shadow dropped from the sky. It hit the sidewalk to his left with a sickening thud, the crunch of bone and an expulsion of blood. Tenzo stared as shrieks of fright floated down from a window on the third story. The music had yet to stop.

The body, familiar in life but terribly distant in death, lay still. Blood seeped from eyes, nose, shattered skull. His neighbor's vacant gaze sent shivers up Tenzo's spine.

 _I just saw him… not five hours ago. How-?_

"He's dead!" a feminine screech came from above. From Juro's shattered window, a girl with wild blond curls practically dangled herself from the jagged sill with a look of terror on her haggard face. "Oh my ***, he's dead! Juro's dead!"

* * *

Kakashi approached his teammate with the slightest hesitation. But that was silly, wasn't it? Tenzo seemed soft and sensitive, but you couldn't have his job and let it all get to you. Still, the wood user was staring at the body covered by a sheet, heedless of the numerous living ones flitting about the scene like blood-thirsty hummingbirds. Transfixed. That was never a good sign.

"You okay?" Kakashi muttered, and watched Tenzo's focus break with the subtle widening of his eyes. Tenzo raised his head and glanced at Kakashi, then nodded.

"Yeah… Just surprised me, is all. I never expect this sort of thing inside the gates."

Kakashi nodded to the covered corpse. "You knew him?"

"Sort of… he lived next door to me. The walls are like paper, so I could always hear…" Tenzo sighed. "Except for tonight. I was feeding the dog. Or trying to…"

"Dog?"

Tenzo nodded. "Just a stray…"

"Hm. And that's when you heard-?"

"The window, yeah."

Kakashi gave a rueful shake of his head, whether it was at the situation itself, or at human beings in general, even he didn't know. Either way, these sorts of cases were never pleasant to deal with. Particularly as an ANBU; despite their shadowy existence, they were still Leaf shinobi and their primary objective was always and forever Konoha and her people's safety. To think that grisly deaths such as this could happen without reason, right under their noses…

"Oi, Ryoiki, leave the body alone!"

Kakashi jerked his gaze up, eyes darting in search of the owner of the name that triggered his attention. The officer in charge, Ao Uchiha of the Leaf Police, marched toward the cadaver with a stormy expression on his regal Uchiha face, illuminated by the stark light of the streetlamp. Kakashi looked ahead, following the Uchiha's line of approach, until his sights landed on a head of long navy blue hair, so dark it almost looked black against the yellow light.

Clad in the typical ANBU body suit and slacks but lacking the flak jacket, Kigen Ryoiki poked, prodded at the body under the sheet. One hand held the cloth back while he observed the bloody mess beneath. "Are the witnesses still around?"

Ao came to him with a growl. "This doesn't concern you. Buzz off!"

Kigen sighed. "I asked if the witnesses are still around."

"I know what you asked and I don't feel like answering!" was Ao's response.

The navy-haired man let the sheet drop and stood, and quite suddenly, he loomed five inches taller than the Uchiha, glaring down his nose at him. "Taken up chewing tobacco again, have we?"

Ao's eyes widened, and he hesitated.

Kigen went on. "Does your girlfriend know? How about your wife?"

Ao snapped his mouth shut, took a single step back. For a moment, the stormy look returned, intensified and lethal. Kakashi wondered if he'd bother activating his Sharingan; he looked about ready to.

But Ao did no such thing, and at last stepped away, lip curling at the shinobi before him. "Tch… Do what you want, Hawk."

"Thank you." Kigen moved to return to his examination, only to hastily raise a hand after the Uchiha. "Wait, you didn't answer my question!"

It was hard to tell whether or not the Uchiha heard him, but in any case, Ao ignored the reminder and simply returned to his distant clique of three other Uchiha officers. All shot Kigen fleeting glances of contempt, before returning to their murmuring.

Kakashi stuffed his hands in his pockets, settling in to observe. This could be interesting. Though, he was losing valuable hours of sleep at this point… _Oh well; what else is new?_

Then Tenzo stepped toward the body. Kakashi raised his eyebrows. What was he up to now?

Tenzo approached Kigen while the latter hunched over the blood spatters, crouched like his ANBU namesake. At the wood user's appearance, Kigen glanced up with sharp, curious eyes.

"They're all upstairs," said Tenzo, pointing to the apartment above. Kakashi followed the gesture to the broken window on the third floor. That must have been the victim's place. "Some officers are still up there questioning the witnesses, I think."

Slowly, Kigen raised a tapered hand to stroke his narrow chin, peering ponderously up at the younger man. His eyes narrowed to slits, and his subsequent hum rumbled longer than it should have. Just as Tenzo was starting to look uncomfortable, Kigen shot to his feet and sauntered toward the building.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Kigen stared up at the window. "I have a few questions to ask, myself."

With that, he drew himself in and shoved off the pavement in a decent leap that took him straight up to the broken window. A couple shrieks of fright followed, just before Kigen disappeared inside.

 _Peculiar as ever,_ Kakashi mused. Tenzo approached, befuddlement tightening his expression.

"Who was that?" the young man asked.

Kakashi shrugged. "Hawk."

"Well, I heard that. It doesn't answer my question. Is he ANBU?"

"Yes and no." With a lazy wave of his hand, Kakashi beckoned Tenzo to follow as they spoke. He meandered his way toward the apartment stairwell, and led the way up. "Apparently, he just got off temporary leave. He's limited to D-rank missions; some kind of probation. I'd imagine chasing cats and weeding old ladies' gardens gets a little tedious for a Black Ops agent."

Tenzo gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "No kidding… No offense to Lord Third, but why is that a good idea?"

"Sandaime must trust him on some level." One couldn't get away with anything otherwise.

They reached Tenzo's floor, nearer to the tense noise wafting down the first hallway. Rushed words, harsh phrases—likely the officers present objecting to Kigen's sudden appearance. Kakashi imagined most would react with a little indignation, for whatever reason. At least, that was how people reacted when _he_ showed up through windows…

 _They're just so much more convenient._

Tenzo took the lead down the hardwood floor of the darkened hallway, guided by bare lightbulbs in the ceiling. They bypassed his crimson-colored door and moved to the one just down the hall from it. The door there stood wide open, allowing light from the flat within to splash across the opposite wall, illuminating the dingy grey paint and cracked plaster.

 _This building's almost as nice as mine,_ Kakashi thought as Tenzo slipped off his sandals. The Hatake followed suit, and the comrades entered together. Light offended their eyes, every fixture strung from the ceiling on and glaring, judging the creatures of the night. Kakashi hunched his shoulders, trying not to squint too hard.

He followed his friend into the main living space of the flat, over a cheap faux-Parsian rug of a gaudy turquoise color. A single sofa upholstered with tawny false leather brushed up against the far right wall, where old floral wallpaper stretched from floor to ceiling, yellowed from years of tobacco exposure.

On that tawny couch sprawled four bodies in various states of 'smashed'. One red-faced man had actually managed to fall asleep draped over the armrest, and a second was close to doing the same, using the first man's shoulder as a pillow. The third body—a woman—and the fourth—a balding man—sat as straight as their inebriated brains would allow them, looking up into the face of the new blue-haired intruder, who had kindly removed his shoes beneath the windowsill.

"What the h***, Ryoiki!?" one of the three Uchiha officers present in the room bellowed, making the near-napping man stir ever so slightly with the daintiest of snorts.

"Shhhh!" Kigen hushed, almost gently, with a slender finger to his lips. He cast the officer a chiding glance. "You'll wake the children."

Susumu Uchiha steamed, while Kigen returned his attention to the two witnesses before him. Kakashi settled against the wall to watch, while Tenzo maneuvered across the room to talk with the officers.

"Now," said Kigen, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down on the twosome before him, "I have questions for you, and you're going to answer to the best of your ability."

The woman—a quaint little thing who might've belonged in a classic film if not for the heavy shadows under her doll-like eyes—nodded with a shiver and leaned a little closer to her older companion. "Okay…"

"Splendid." The navy-haired shinobi reached into his tool pouch and withdrew a small forest-green book and pen. He opened the book, set pen tip to paper, and then went on. "Now, I'd like to hear straight from you just what happened. As much as you can recall."

 _That's not going to be much._ Kakashi looked over the gathered four once more. None of them seemed in any shape to be decent witnesses.

"They already told us, Ryoiki," said Susumu. "It's a suicide, open-and-close."

"Thank you for your input." Kigen didn't even spare the man a glance, and instead nodded to the woman. "Go on."

"Uh…" She looked to the older gentleman beside her. He nodded, and so she sat up straighter and wrung her hands in her lap. Haggard though she was, Kakashi could see a decent sobriety in her eyes; sudden death did tend to chase away drunken bliss…

"Well," she began, "it… was Kumo's birthday, see. We wanted to celebrate an' so we got together. We each brought a case of sake—what we could afford. An' it was great. Okay, there was music 'n dancing 'n stuff, and we were gonna go all night."

"How long had you been drinking?" Kigen inquired.

The woman and the balding man shared a glance, and both shrugged. The woman answered, "I dunno… Maybe five hours, I guess?"

The balding man grunted in agreement, and Kigen scribbled some in his book.

"Mm-hm. So you're all very drunk at this point."

The woman actually giggled a little. "Yeah… We were having fun. Juro's always great when he's drunk. Great for a laugh."

Kigen gestured to the window. "Yes, and now he's lying on the sidewalk, bathed in blood. Do try to keep that in mind. Go on."

Those words seemed to turn the lady's face a little green, and she choked on her laughter. Despite her clouded judgment, she had enough sense to honor the dead.

"Well… I-It wasn't us, I swear! Everything was all right and normal and suddenly, he jumps up and dives out the window!" Big, fat tears swelled on her puffy eyelids now.

Kakashi watched Kigen suppress a roll of his eyes, pen pausing in its hasty scribbling. Using the well-worn click-end, Kigen pointed between the two lucid witnesses. "You can breathe into a bag in a minute. I need you to be more specific."

"That's all there is to it, shinobi-san," spoke the balding man at last, his voice startlingly high in pitch. "We were laughing at something Juro said, and then he goes really still and quiet. Next we knew, he was on his feet and through the glass."

 _Sounds like this guy was the most aware of them all,_ Kakashi concluded. Though he still sounded unsettled, the balding man wasn't slurring or stumbling over his words.

"See?" Susumu sauntered over with his arms folded over his chest. Tenzo slipped from behind the police clique and took his place at Kakashi's side. "It's not complicated, Ryoiki."

"Oh, please." Kigen wrote something more in his book. "I thought Uchiha were elite. You're always boasting of your superior might; I always assumed you were including your intellect. Perhaps I was mistaken."

While the officers squawked, Kigen addressed the balding man, eyes keener, sharper than before. He zeroed in on this, the most lucid of the witnesses. "You're saying that he simply… stood and bolted?"

"Yeah!"

"…And how much alcohol had he consumed?"

 _Ah, red flag number one._

"Psh, I dunno…" The witness scratched at his jowls, mouth curling a little. "More than the rest of us."

"Could you walk in a straight line?" Kigen's pen was poised over the paper again.

"I didn't bother to try," said the man.

"What are you getting at, bird brain?" Susumu barked, but Kigen shushed him with an absent wave of his hand.

"Ah… and would you say that Juro-san held his liquor well?"

"Not at all. He always was a lightweight."

"Hm…" Kigen snapped his book shut. "Where was he sitting?"

Balding Man patted the couch next to his thigh. "Right here."

"And he took a straight shot to the window?" Kigen ambled a few steps toward the shattered panes.

"Yeah," the woman confirmed, "it was weird! We yelled at him and he didn't even look at us! Just went straight to the window and… threw himself out."

Kigen, across the room now, ran his fingers over the window frame's thick coat of tacky blue paint. "Had he gotten up before that?"

Balding Man laughed. "Not for a couple hours; he tried getting up to use the bathroom once and didn't even make it off the couch."

"Aha…" Kigen examined his fingers—for what, Kakashi couldn't even imagine; perhaps didn't want to—and then turned slowly back to the Uchiha in the room. "And how likely is it that a known lightweight who couldn't even stand to relieve himself could suddenly not walk, but _run_ in a _straight line_ to the window without a single stumble?"

"Tch," scoffed Susumu, "you're taking their word for it? They're hardly reliable sources, and will barely remember this in the morning." The other two Uchiha, at their captain's words, eyed the witnesses with disdain.

"A testimony is a testimony." Kigen clicked his pen. "Which is more than you've got."

"While your theory is valid," at long last, Kakashi dared to speak, adding his two cents to the investigation. That was, after all, why he'd been sent. Not that he thought there would be much to investigate… "it's too vague to be more than one of many. Even if their testimonies are correct, what exactly could we say happened?"

"Hatake!" Susumu blinked at him from under a furrowed brow. "When did you get here?"

Kakashi spared him a glance, but not a breath. "There's just as much of a chance that Susumu-heichou's theory is correct. Trouble is, there's no hard evidence either way. The best we have to go on is two drunken accounts. If it wasn't a suicide, then what are we supposed to be looking for? Your theory doesn't go beyond the suspicious circumstances."

For a short moment of silence, the present investigators pondered this. Kakashi watched Kigen for a response, and got one in the form of the latter's eyebrows drawing low over his yellow eyes. The scowl was moderate, but deep and hard—offended.

Kakashi resisted the urge to sigh. _It's not my fault I'm right._

"Listen," Susumu said, stepping up between them all, "as of right now, this case is being treated as a suicide. It's unfortunate, but these sorts of things happen all the time. You learn to accept it and move on. Which means—" He turned on Kigen. "We don't need a nosy ex-ANBU snooping around, stirring up trouble where trouble doesn't exist. Not everything is a conspiracy, Ryoiki. So keep your d*** paranoid nose out of it. We didn't ask you to be here."

Kigen jerked his head up, affronted, and stared down his nose at the shorter Uchiha. A brief stare-down ensued, and Kakashi withered under the tension. This really was getting overdramatic…

Finally, Kigen huffed. He stuffed his book back into his pouch, and turned his back on the rest of them. Sauntering toward the window, he kept his shoulders square, and then stooped to pick up his sandals.

"Paranoid?" Kigen shook his head. "Caution. So often mistaken for one another… Ultimately, it just means I'm doing your job better than you are, Susumu- _heichou_."

Somehow, Kakashi got the idea that Kigen meant the title as anything but honorable.

Susumu narrowed his eyes, jaw clenching, tendons straining in his neck, but before he could open his mouth, Kigen swept out the window and disappeared into the night.

Kakashi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck wearily. Did trouble just follow that strange man around?

 _Or maybe it's just me…_ Perhaps he needed to refrain from going out in public. Spare others—and himself—the drama.


	40. The Heart Wants: Mind

**The Heart Wants: Mind**

 **Date Posted: 12/26/17**

 **Word Count: 4385**

* * *

 **MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY! I have been so super busy... BUT I found some time to finish this next update! :D I couldn't let y'all think I'd dropped this thing. It's still going strong, don't worry!**

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **fluffpenguin: No problem! I hope you like this new arc!**

 **Youkai Ryuu: Hmm, well, here you go. XP You'll have to tell me what you think of Kigen as things go along.**

 **sakuzi-chan: I'm glad you're liking it so far! :D I hope you stay tuned!**

 **Guest: I'm happy you're liking this fic! It's fun to see the different ships that are already flying around... XD**

 **coriamber2014: Awww, I'm flattered! :3 I know I started this fic 'cause there weren't many ANBU Kakashi fics around that I could find, so it's super awesome to know that I'm succeeding in my original goal.**

 **tabjoy13: Oh my goodness, so many reviews! Thank you so much! Welcome to the fic, and I'm so glad you're enjoying it! To be honest, the Firefly reference was entirely on accident; I saw it on Pinterest and didn't realize it was a quote from Firefly until after I'd used it. Good to see you're intrigued, though, and I hope you (and everybody else who's followed/faved/reviewed) enjoy this next installment!**

 **and again, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!**

 **~Penelope**

* * *

Kakashi didn't really get 'visitors'. Not like normal people, anyway. Whenever a knock sounded against his apartment door, his first thought was either 'rent' or 'Tenzo'—seeing as those two things were the only reason anybody would ever come to see him. Everybody else who might've come knocking just for him was dead and gone, and Gai just… didn't knock.

He didn't recognize this knock, however. It wasn't tentative, gentle, like Tenzo's. But it also wasn't the incessant pounding that was characteristic of Old Lady Fu. The knocks had sounded firm against his door, in an even threesome. Polite, but insistent.

With a sigh, Kakashi crawled off his bed, setting Icha Icha Paradise aside amidst the rumpled covers, careful not to lose his place. Not that he wouldn't have been able to find it if he did lose it… He'd read it three times already. _Jiraiya really needs to finish a second one…_

Across the cold hardwood Kakashi trudged, until he stood before his apartment door, which loomed just waiting to be opened. He wondered if whoever was on the other side would just go away if he didn't answer. But if it was Tenzo, he probably needed something; Tenzo didn't like bothering people, no matter how much people insisted it was no bother at all.

At this point, any further thought was simply stalling. Kakashi wouldn't have minded so much, except there was always that pesky chance that it really was something important. With great reluctance, he gripped the doorknob and pulled it in. The door opened a crack before halting against the deadbolt chain.

"Yes?" Kakashi peered through his narrow window to the outside hallway, and his eyebrows climbed at the sight of the person who stood waiting.

Kigen Ryoiki, in all his regal glory, folded his arms over his chest, sporting a snug black sweater and tan slacks. Civvies. Unofficial business. Chances of it being a complete and utter waste of Kakashi's time: 78%.

"There's a nice little tea shop about four blocks from here," said the navy-haired man, gesturing down the hall with an open hand. "I used to frequent it before the Hokage's cronies locked me away… They have sweet jasmine to die for. Follow me, and I'll show you."

Kakashi's eyebrows twitched higher. Did this guy think a straight order was really the way to go? If Kakashi himself could safely say that was a social no-no, then this ex-captain had to be even more inept than he was. Besides that, of the two of them, Kakashi ranked higher on the proverbial totem pole.

He offered his visitor a frown. "Excuse me?"

A beat of silence skipped by, and then Kigen let out a long sigh—as if he were resigning himself to something. That something was probably an explanation.

"I'm offering to buy you tea," was the explanation given. Kigen raised his chin in subtle defiance. "Problem?"

The attitude was grating, and a number of rude responses instantly jumped to mind. Kakashi could just shut the door in his face and go back to his book. He certainly didn't feel like going out right now. Another option was to spit something sassy, like 'you're not my type', before closing the door with slow deliberation.

 _Or…_

Now and again, Kakashi liked a good trolling. Nothing else broke up the shadowy mundane existence he lived quite like it. More than being outright rude, sometimes, it was so much more fun to mess with the opposing party's head a little. That usually guaranteed the same result—Kakashi's solitude—in a much more entertaining fashion.

Kakashi unbolted the door, opened it wider, and leaned casually against the frame. "So… You're asking me out?"

Something akin to confusion knotted Kigen's brow. Kakashi could practically see gears turning behind his yellow eyes, and he waited patiently for the flustered denial that was sure to come. At least, he hoped it did… He wasn't sure what he'd do if his trolling gag turned out to be correct.

Slowly, Kigen nodded and for a brief moment, Kakashi feared the worst. Then the other man opened his mouth.

"You're inside, I'm outside, asking you to come out… Yes, let's try to keep up, shall we?" Kigen gestured at Kakashi's bare feet. "You'll need shoes."

 _Duh._

Kakashi wondered where he'd gone wrong. He was fairly certain his intentionally wrong conclusion had been perfectly clear. Had his target simply heard wrong? From this distance?

"So you are asking me out," Kakashi said with purposeful finality. He watched for signs in Kigen's body language, of either confirmation or denial.

Neither sign came however. Instead, Kigen's scowl intensified, his fists clenched once, and he gave a frustrated shrug. "If you want to say it that way, fine! But would you please stop just standing there throwing my words back in my face? We don't have all day."

Kakashi withered. _Geez… how oblivious is this guy?_

Still. The mind games weren't working. Was it naivety—in an ANBU operative? Kakashi doubted it—or counterattack? If it was the latter, Kakashi had to admit it was sort of working. Kakashi's direction of approach had been thrown off course, and he was left to step back and try to find a new one.

There was only one thing to do.

Kakashi shrugged, and pushed off the doorframe. "Okay. Let me get my shoes."

* * *

Kigen pushed one of the hanging curtains aside, and a streak of sudden sunlight offended three patrons before splashing over the far wall, announcing the duo's arrival in the small corner tea shop on one of the busier streets in the eastern district. A wash of herbal aroma hit Kakashi like a tsunami to the face, and he didn't know whether to stagger back or relish it. He decided to do neither, and instead inhaled slowly and shallowly, to give his olfactory nerve a little time to adjust.

"You sure tea is all they're making here?" he asked his host.

Kigen ignored him, turning instead to a little old woman who approached at a hobble. She stooped like the ceiling might fall in on her, and her hair was thin enough that Kakashi wondered how she still had any at all.

"We'll have two of the usual," Kigen said with an air of familiarity.

The old woman punched him in the gut. Face like stone, Kigen didn't even flinch; she might as well have slugged the Hokage Monument for all the damage she did.

"The usual!? Dagnabit!" With more spry energy than Kakashi would've thought her capable of at her size, the woman flailed dramatically, shaking her fists and stomping her feet. "You get out of my shop, you tactless prick!"

Kigen arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I don't like you!" the old woman snapped back.

"I do believe that's called consumer discrimination, for which I could report you to the authorities." Kigen, completely unfazed by this woman's animosity, folded his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up. Meanwhile, Kakashi was busy wondering just how old this guy was… He acted like a twelve-year-old. A 'walking dictionary' sort of twelve-year-old.

"Report-!?" Bearing crooked teeth, the old woman unleashed a growl so menacing, that it startled Kakashi from his lack of impression and provoked a shudder on his part. "Imperious jack***!"

"Prune-faced gorgon," Kigen returned with fluid apathy.

Yep. Definitely a twelve-year-old.

Practically steaming—Kakashi expected her to start frothing at the mouth any moment—the old woman clenched her fists until the knuckles popped. Then she turned and pointed a bony finger across the shop.

"Corner booth! Take it!"

Now that he looked, Kakashi could see that all the other patrons seated at the quaint round tables inside were now watching with wide eyes. He withered under the attention once he realized it.

 _ANBU are not meant to be out in the open… Or maybe that's just me._

Kigen moved, the shield that was his presence drifting away in long strides, and Kakashi followed after him at what he hoped was a leisurely pace. But despite his hands being in his pockets, Kakashi could feel the tension twinging through his shoulders. He let his breath out slowly in an attempt to ease them.

The corner booth, like the rest of the booths against the wall, differed from the main tables in the fact that they were separated by wooden dividers—small, individual rooms with wide doorways that looked out over the main dining area. Only a few of them were being used at the moment, and the corner one was the furthest from any fellow customers.

"Well this is… cozy," Kakashi said, watching Kigen settle on one of the cushions at the table inside the corner booth.

"It'll do," was Kigen's clipped response. His sharp eyes looked past Kakashi, into the main hall—at what, Kakashi couldn't tell.

Seeing that no further explanation would be forthcoming, Kakashi resigned himself to take a seat across the table from his companion. He sank onto his knees on the cushion, and found it rather comfortable, if not a little overstuffed.

"Our hostess doesn't seem to care for your company." Kakashi eyed the man across from him.

"Jun Nakajima-san," Kigen said, closing his eyes. "Best tea master in Konoha, and also recovering from a recent hip surgery. Hence her particularly cantankerous mood."

Kakashi gave him the driest stare he could muster. "No, I'm pretty sure it was just you." Then he frowned. Hadn't this man just gotten out of rehab? "How would you know about any recent surgery?"

"She's favoring her left leg. Or didn't you see it?"

Honestly, Kakashi had simply thought it was how she walked. It wasn't as if he had any pretext. "Why hip surgery? It could be her foot."

Kigen shrugged. "She had trouble with her hips last time I saw her, about seven months ago."

"Could still be her foot."

The other man's navy eyebrows twitched lower over his sharp eyes, and Kigen leaned his elbows forward to clunk them on the table top. Irritation radiated from him in waves, which Kakashi met evenly with a aura of 'I don't give a crap'. Because he didn't.

He never hesitated to insult children. Especially when they thought they were smart.

"Must you insist on shooting down every deduction I make?" Kigen laced his own fingers together, clasping them under his nose and muffling the tail end of his words.

Kakashi shrugged. "I prefer to consider all the options."

"If one were to simply consider at every interval, nothing would ever be done about anything." Kigen leaned back again with a great sigh, and turned to gaze out over the main dining space outside the booth. A lengthy beat of silence stretched on, Kigen's eyes darting this way and that, before he finally looked back to Kakashi.

"Pick somebody out there," he said.

Kakashi frowned. "What?"

"Pick someone who's seated in sight. I can tell you everything about them."

"Everything?" Curiosity rearing its head, Kakashi turned to follow the man's gaze toward the patrons gathered outside. With the booth dividers separating them, they were mere observers to the crowd—even the sound seemed distant from them.

A good number of people conversed at their respective tables, and Kakashi swept his attention over them all, pondering which one he should point out to his strange company. An elderly couple, a man and his date, a solitary woman on the far end… and the approaching waitress.

"Tamaryokucha with grilled citrus," she said with a pleasant smile, as she set the tea tray between them. "Or 'the usual', Ryoiki-san."

Kigen gave a minute smile. "Thank you, Miss Atsuko."

"Enjoy." With that, she turned and strode away, weaving through the tables to the one at which the young couple sat.

Kakashi settled his gaze on the two, watching them for a moment. The young man had dark hair pulled back in a low tail, a bandana tied around his head. He was nervous, but quiet, from what Kakashi could tell. His knee bounced, but his face displayed some kind of contentment or resolve. He was dressed casually, but cleanly.

His date had chestnut hair, long and straight, half of it tamed in a bun while the rest spilled over her shoulders. She appeared to be more jittery than her companion, tapping her fingers and glancing at the exit—in fact, she seemed rather ready to leave at any moment.

"Those two," Kakashi said at last, nodding in their direction. "Tell me about them."

Kigen snorted, picking up his tea mug and giving it a gentle swirl. "I said pick one, but this works, I suppose." He took a slow sip, set the mug down, and then turned in his seat to face out across the crowd. His eyes narrowed, and Kakashi could practically see his focus honing in on the couple like light through a looking glass.

It seemed like this might take a while. Kakashi, a bit dubiously, picked up his own tea mug and inhaled the steam wafting from the liquid. Sharp, citrus…

"He's a shinobi," Kigen said, startling him. "Or was. He's been recently dismissed. Could be retired, but given his age, discharged is more likely. Not discharged for injury, though; he's in good health. So something psychological, no doubt. Probably shellshock. He flinches at sharp noises, but he's trying to keep it discreet. He doesn't want his sister to notice."

Kakashi frowned into his mug, playing the absentminded listener despite taking in every word. "Sister?" He chanced a quick sip of the tea. _Hm, not bad…_

"Yes. Did you assume it was his date? She's aware of that. She keeps glancing around like she's worried people are watching. She's also forcing her laughter. Strained relationship. Probably estranged. Maybe she had feelings she shouldn't, or maybe she doesn't like soldiers. I'd put my money on the former. Her brow furrows every time he looks anxious. She's worried for him. That rules out animosity."

"Or it could just be young love on the rocks," Kakashi pointed out.

"Unlikely. Different hair color, but their eyes are the same shade of blue, down to the grey flecks on the lower half of the iris. Similar jawlines and ear shapes as well. Definitely related."

 _Who pays attention to freaking ear shape?_

"She's aware of his struggles, though. She sets her cup down with extra care, keeping her movement slow and added sound to a minimum. However, she's also in a hurry." Kigen tilted his head. "Keeps glancing outside, like she has somewhere else she needs to be, but she's reluctant to leave. He's oblivious to this."

Kakashi processed this information, observing the couple himself. All of the obvious things were in fact true, from the flinching to the glancing. Even the ear shape. However, there wasn't much beyond that. He opened his mouth to voice this, only for Kigen to cut him off.

"She's a babysitter," he stated. "She has a blanket and decently new pacifier in her satchel beside her. Certainly not for herself. Could be for her own child, but the likelihood of that is low. Look at her physique; no signs of having recently been pregnant. Athletic, enough to be a shinobi but she isn't, judging by her tan lines and lack of standard equipment. She's also rather young to have an infant, and she's lacking that distinct smell of 'baby'."

"What?" Kakashi said, incredulous. How could he jump to this kind of conclusion based on lack of 'baby' smell? And how could he smell her, anyhow? Was it on the way over?

"Conclusion: she's planning on going to a client's home after this brunch, hence her antsy behavior. She does have somewhere to be, but she's loathe to leave her brother alone, particularly since he's planning on joining the military once more."

How could Kigen possibly know that? No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than-

"I overheard him express such sentiments as we passed by. Typical feelings of uselessness and a desire for action. This confirms my theory of discharge for PTSD—something he couldn't help, leaving him feeling purposeless without the career he'd poured half of his young life into. Now he's called his only remaining family here to let her know of his intentions.

How do I know she's his only remaining family? This is the sort of thing you would tell your close family right away if you trusted them. However, she's the only one here. Perhaps he called them and they didn't bother to show up, but why not? Their traumatized son wants them to have a family brunch to give them an announcement."

Kakashi made his interjection quick, just to get a word in edgewise. "Maybe they don't care."

"No, these two are from a decent home. Look at their clothes—neat, clean. Well-mannered. The only signs of trauma are the shellshock, scars on the man's hands, and the shadows under his eyes. Perhaps they had your everyday family drama, but they came from supportive parents, biological or no. And whatever loss happened, it happened in the recent past—not long enough past to affect them fundamentally, but not recent enough to be obvious emotionally. Possibly between three and six years."

"That's awfully specific," Kakashi murmured into his tea.

Kigen plowed on, heedless. "Besides that, he's wearing a pair of outdated ninja sandals. Previous generation. Likely a hand-me-down from his father. Sentimental value; he wants to feel close to his military father right now. If the father were alive, why would he take the memento over the real thing? So his sister is all he has left. There could be extended family, but let's face it, why would he bother announcing this sort of thing to distant relatives even if he does have them? This is something personal and controversial; not something you share with everyone."

"What color are her pajamas?" Kakashi blurted before Kigen could continue.

The question halted the other man just as he'd opened his mouth to speak, and for a moment, Kakashi could practically see his racing mind come to a screeching halt. Kigen blinked his gold eyes once, twice—slowly. He pulled his attention away from the couple in the dining area, and zeroed in on Kakashi's face, brow pursed. Kakashi just offered him an eyesmile.

"…What does that have to do with anything?" Kigen asked at length.

Kakashi set his drained tea cup aside on the table. "You said you could tell me everything about them."

"Semantics. Besides, the color of her sleeping apparel has no bearing on the purpose of this exercise."

"So you do know the color?"

Kigen snorted. "No. That isn't an observable fact."

"Uh-huh."

The Ryoiki's forehead creased further, frustration mounting with obvious intensity. Forcefully, he placed his elbow on the table and planted his other hand on his hip, leaning in to glare Kakashi in the eye. "Do you exist solely to make trouble for other people?"

Kakashi shook his head. "No. Wait…" He pinched his chin, feigning deep thought. "…Okay, mostly. How do I know you didn't plant that couple there just so you could show off here?"

Kigen's jaw slackened, and he looked absolutely affronted. "Excuse me?"

"You could be faking it."

This time, Kigen's pale face turned a little red with the force of his indignation, and the scowl returned twofold. Kakashi watched, maintaining an impassive expression as he did so. From the corner of his eye, he noted Jun Nakajima approaching the booth, a stormy expression on her wizened face and a tray in her hands.

Then Kigen jumped up, glaring down his nose at Kakashi just as the elderly woman stepped up to their booth.

"Come with me," Kigen ordered, words hasty and clipped. Kakashi raised an eyebrow.

Without waiting for a response, Kigen marched out of the booth, almost bowling Nakajima-san over on his way out. The old woman stumbled, flailed and nearly dropped her tray—and the steaming kettle on it. She managed to steady it, while Kakashi released a pent-up sigh of resignation.

 _Might as well,_ he thought. He rose from his cushion to his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Hey you!" Nakajima-san barked at him, voice like a crow's. "Somebody's gotta pay for this!"

It took a moment, but he eventually realized that by 'somebody,' she meant him. His eyebrows climbed, and he looked over the table right to left, searching for the payment Kigen had to have left amongst the purchased wares. Not a single ryo graced the table's dark surface.

He sighed, and dug into his supply pouch, fingers searching for spare change. _This man is proving quite troublesome…_

* * *

"Where are we going?" Kakashi questioned as he moseyed down the damp street behind his dubious escort. Ahead of him, Kigen's shoulders were rigid and his steps purposeful, footsteps muted by the close air about them. A fog had blown in from the east, over the bluffs; it was like a cloud had settled over the village and sent the majority of foot traffic retreating indoors. Visibility was low—unless you were a shinobi.

"You tell me," Kigen replied, not glancing back.

Kakashi frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I will continue walking in random directions until you stop me. Then, you may point out anyone you wish. I will prove my skill to you."

"Wait, stop."

Kakashi didn't have to reach, or even ask twice. Kigen halted on the spot, and turned to face him. No doubt he thought Kakashi would comply.

They'd come to a halt across the street from what looked through the fog like a boutique, with faceless mannequins in the windows clad in colorful traditional dress. On their other side nestled a quaint little bookstore.

Glancing about to see how many other pedestrians surrounded them—and there weren't more than four or five—Kakashi eyed his companion. "Why are you doing this?"

It was one thing to show off. Kakashi knew what that was like; he'd seen the hubris in Kigen's 'demonstration' before. But this seemed a tad excessive, if Kigen was going so far out of his way to prove that he was half-omniscient.

The other man remained straight-backed and narrow-eyed as he replied. "I told you. I will prove my skill to you."

"Why?"

Kigen raised his head, inhaling sharply through his nose. Kakashi could tell he was losing patience rapidly at this point. Still, he provided an answer.

"You're a man of reason," Kigen began, gesturing toward Kakashi's person. "I've known this since our first meeting. I attacked you in the middle of a public street, and rather than take the time to question my reasoning or get lost in your own surprise, you chose to adapt to the situation at hand. You shut down your emotional reaction in order to focus on defending yourself. Then later, you returned to confronting the puzzle and did so from a completely objective viewpoint."

Kakashi shrugged. "So what?"

"So that kind of objectivity by choice is a frighteningly rare find," Kigen said, "and in our line of work, it is invaluable."

"And this means you have to drag me around the village because…?"

"I do not make baseless deductions!" Kigen spat with a forceful insistency that surprised Kakashi. "When I make a judgment call, I do not do so lightly. I'm aware of the endless variables and multiple ways in which a scenario might have played out, but I make decisions based on the balance of probability. Humans are predictable in most situations, therefore, it is no leap of logic, given the option between a sure mediocrity and a chance of spontaneity, to assume the former. This is how puzzles are solved—by following the pattern."

It was beginning to become clear in Kakashi's mind, as he listened to Kigen's frustration, why he was getting such a reaction.

"If a defiance of the norm comes along, I deal with it when it does. However, until proven to be such an anomaly, I will go on using deduction as my guide." Kigen had begun to calm down now, words more measured and composed. He gave a short sigh. "And as I do, it would be a great help to have another one of Konoha's renowned minds on my side rather than against me."

 _One of… Oh._ Kakashi raised his eyebrows. "You mean me?"

"People value your judgment, even if you yourself do not. You have more influence than you realize, and I would greatly appreciate if that influence was not used to convince others to disregard my efforts."

Despite himself, Kakashi laughed—humorlessly, but it was a laugh still. "I'm not about to say you're right if you're wrong."

"No, of course not." Kigen shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing across the street at a pair of male chuunin that appeared from the fog. "I'm not asking for favors. Only for the benefit of the doubt."

That was something Kakashi didn't extend to much of anything anymore. There was always a disappointment to the standard, an exception to the rule. Absolutes didn't exist. Kakashi's mind couldn't let him accept a bottom line without reminding him of the alternatives. It was simply how his mind worked. The benefit of the doubt was only given to the universe as a whole—and to the fact that nothing was certain. When in doubt, he could count on the world's unpredictability.

And here was this stranger, somebody Kakashi barely knew, asking him to put trust in his ability to count on the very opposite. To rely on predictability in an unpredictable realm.

This was about that suicide case, Kakashi knew. It wasn't hard to guess. Kigen was incensed over his judgment being called into question. And the intensity of his indignation stemmed from more than just Kakashi's incredulity of today. It must have started during that investigation two days ago. When Kakashi combated Kigen's decisive deduction with his own variables.

Or perhaps Kigen was just more volatile than he thought.

Either way, Kakashi had a choice now.

And even as he pondered it, he could only come to one conclusion.

 _Why not?_


End file.
